


Leaving Normal

by LeighKelly



Category: Glee
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, F/F, High School, Soulmates, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:50:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 135,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4801817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeighKelly/pseuds/LeighKelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In small towns like Roswell, New Mexico, secrets are hard to keep. When Santana Lopez is shot in her father's diner, and Brittany Pierce saves her life, everything is put at risk, especially the secret Brittany has been hiding for all of her life, that she is most definitely not of this Earth. AU loosely set in the Roswell-verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secrets and Lies

If there's one thing about small towns, especially small towns like Roswell, New Mexico, where there is  _still_  speculation, even more than sixty-six years later, over the infamous alleged crash of a UFO in 1947, it is that secrets don't make friends. Brittany S. Pierce, unfortunately, had two secrets. Her first was relatively harmless, if not embarrassing. From the time she'd first laid eyes on Santana Lopez at six years old, she had fallen completely and undeniably in love with her. Despite the fact that Brittany was fairly certain that the Lopez family had like, founded the state or something, they'd been in Roswell so long (and she wasn't being racist, even though they  _were_  Mexican, and they were in  _New_  Mexico), Santana was the perfect, all American girl. With her raven hair, her stunning dark eyes, her skin that looked like it had been kissed all over by the sun (Brittany wished  _she_  could kiss her all over), and the cheerleading uniform that hugged her body in all the right places, Brittany wanted her more than anything. But that was off limits, she could never have her because of the other secret.

Brittany's second secret, _that_ was the dangerous one, more dangerous than anything in the world, the universe maybe. It was a secret she shared with her brother, Sam and their best (or rather, only) friend Quinn Fabray. The secret that set them apart, even if no one knew it, in the smallest of small towns. They were, all three of them, even though they lacked gigantic black eyes, green skin or antennae, most definitely not of this Earth.

It was no secret in Roswell, that two blonde children, a boy and a girl, had been found wandering in the desert sometime past midnight in April of 2003. When the local sheriff, Burt Hummel had picked them up on the side of the dirt road he'd been patrolling, neither of them spoke, neither of them cried, they just stared at him with eyes wide, as if they'd never seen another human before (and the truth was, they  _hadn't_ ). Severe trauma, the doctors in the hospital had chalked their silence up to, even if no signs of physical distress marked their bodies, and after the extensive search to find the monsters who would leave their children to fend for themselves out in the wild failed, a frantic search to find a new home for them ensued. Because not much happens in Roswell, it was basically headline news for two full weeks, until Evan and Susan Pierce, a real estate lawyer and a homemaker, made it their personal mission to adopt the Lost Children, as they'd come to be known.

Life was good for the pair, who'd been given, with all the love in the world, a place to call home and the names of their parents. Brittany Susan and Samuel Evan Pierce had the best of everything, tutors, therapists, toys, books, you name it, they were given it. The same could not be said for the sullen, angry little girl, who'd been handed over to social services, just days later, while frantically searching the hospital for her lost comrades, how she'd even come to know them, she couldn't be sure. The third blonde, who strangely no one thought to connect to the other two, was tossed almost immediately into the foster care system, given the name Lucy Fabray, although for some reason, unbeknownst to anyone else, decided to go by the name Quinn.

It was Brittany who had found Quinn first, and instinctively knew who she was, knew that she was the same girl who'd been out in the desert with them some six months earlier. Immediately upon reconnecting, in a second grade classroom at Roswell Elementary School, the two little girls sobbed into each other's arms, knowing that they shared a secret that could never be spoken to anyone outside of their triad. Flash forward ten years later, and Brittany, Sam and Quinn were sitting in a diner, more specifically, the diner owned by the father of one Santana Lopez, and once again, Brittany was attempting to discretely stare at the girl she wanted more than anything, but could never have.

"Britt!" Sam called out, blowing a straw wrapper and hitting her directly between the eyes. "Could you be any more obvious right now?"

"I don't see the problem." She protested. "With just appreciating the natural beauty of the world. I mean look at her. Actually, don't, I don't want you to think she's material for any of that hand action you get."

"What? She's only public domain for  _your_  hand action?" Sam countered, and Brittany made to toss a salt shaker in his direction before Quinn grabbed her arm angrily.

"How many times do I have to tell you two, no drawing attention? No staring at Roswell's Sweetheart, no throwing shit in her father's diner, no anything. I swear, sometimes the two of you shouldn't even be allowed to speak."

"Relax, Quinn." Sam shook his head, and then lowered his voice significantly. "If we all acted as uptight as you, no one would actually believe we're normal teenagers."

"And I still don't see why I can't stare at Santana. Everyone stares at her, and it's not like she isn't a total out and proud lesbian."

"That is  _precisely_  why you can't, Brittany." Quinn snapped. "I know you don't realize it, but I'm not even into girls and I know how attractive you are. And this entire town knows just how into beautiful blondes Santana Lopez is. One wrong move, and we all end up in some laboratory being probed."

"Number one, you apparently watch too many science fiction movies. Number two, isn't it usually the aliens doing the probing of the humans, and not the other way around?" Sam tried to joke, but was met with Quinn's icy glare.

"And number three." Brittany added. "Just what kind if probing are we talking about, because-"

"Don't even finish the sentence." Quinn cut her off with a raised hand a huff. "This isn't a joke."

"I'm well aware it's not a  _joke_." A twinge of anger rose in Brittany's voice. "I'm not  _stupid_. And if I thought it was a joke, I would be pressing Santana up against that counter right now and doing exactly what any normal teenager wants to do to her. But I'm _not_  normal, I get it. I'm just so sick off talking about it oh, I don't know, all the time."

"I'm just trying to-"

"Keep us safe, I know Quinn." Brittany sighed. "It's just sometimes I wish-"

"We could be a little more human." Sam finished, his glance at Santana's best friend Mercedes Jones not missed by either of the blonde girls.

Before Quinn could speak another word, the two men at the table beside them stood up, and suddenly, with the sound of a cocked pistol, everything the three knew, in the world that wasn't truly theirs, began to splinter apart.

* * *

Although her life seemed to be an open book, and it kind of had to be, because everyone in Roswell knew her, knew her family, knew about ninety-nine-point-nine percent of her business, Santana Lopez had a secret. No, it wasn't that she liked girls, that secret had been effectively dealt with when she was fourteen years old and kissed Alyssa, a girl on her cheerleading squad, and promptly ran home to tell her parents before a rumor started to spread. Javier Lopez panicked at first, the Lopez family has a name to protect, after all, but once Santana's mother Maribel got through to him, and the whole town nearly threw a parade in honor of their now openly sapphic princess, Javier calmed down significantly, and apologized profusely to his only daughter. Santana's second secret though, the one she kept hidden deep inside of her, was the one that might eventually break her father. Unlike every Lopez in seven generations, Santana had no desire to remain in the one horse town of Roswell, no desire to be the next in line to own the same diner than had been in her family since five years after New Mexico had been granted statehood. No, Santana wanted bigger, she wanted something, anything other than the excruciatingly painful normalcy that had been thrust upon her. That secret though, she kept hidden under a cheerleading uniform (Go Titans!), impeccable grades, and seemingly endless shifts waiting tables in the stifling alien themed diner.

Donning a lime green button up dress, antennae ("Seriously, Papi." She'd begged. "Can't we just change the theme to  _anything_  else?") and the most comfortable of sneakers, the brunette moved effortlessly from table to table, flashing her small town girl charm and an impressive set of dimples, trying to hide from the world just how crippling all the normalcy was to her spirit. As she leaned against the counter, waiting for Noah Puckerman, her cousin, somehow, by marriage, to shove her burgers through the window, Santana sighed, glancing over at the table where a certain beautiful blonde and her equally blonde brother and friend sat, desperate to know just who Brittany Pierce was, and why, unlike most everyone else in Roswell, the girl barely appeared to spare her a passing look.

"Girl, quit your staring and get your ass back out on the floor. These tables aren't going to wait themselves." Santana's best friend since before birth, Mercedes Jones interrupted her, smacking her on the arm. "If you want blondie so bad, just go over there and talk to her."

"Puh-lease, 'Cedes, like her brother and Quinn Fabitch would even let me within a hundred yards of her. I just don't get them. They're all weird and withdrawn, but on Brittany, it kind of looks crazy hot."

"Here, switch tables with me. Because I'm such a good friend, I'll take ugly and uglier by the door and you can have the Hitler Youth."

"Stop calling them that. It was funny like, the first fifteen times you said it, now you just kind of sound like an asshole."

"Well they're just as untouchable." Mercedes smirked, grabbing the plates that Puck had set on the pass through for Santana and tossing an order slip in her general direction. "You'll thank me later, princess."

Mercedes turned quickly, before Santana could say anything else, and the Latina let out another sigh. Talk to Brittany Pierce, right. It was ridiculous, she was  _the_  Santana Lopez, why did the idea of talking to a beautiful girl suddenly make her feel so weak in the knees? Her thoughts were interrupted though, when a pistol cocked and she snapped her eyes up an instant too late, and her entire world went black with the sickly smell of sulfur and copper, and an agonizing pain that hit just above her naval.

* * *

"Don't even think about it, Brittany." Quinn yelped, grabbing her friend roughly by the arm as the diner erupted into a panicked frenzy. "Don't. Even.  _Think_. About. It."

"Get off of me!" Brittany shoved her away as Sam attempted to intervene between the two. "I need to see if she's okay."

"You don't even know her!"

"I don't care." Brittany managed to break free of both Quinn's hand, and her brother's that had latched on to her other arm. "I'm not going to let her die."

Without another word, she sprinted across the diner on her long legs, and hopped over the counter to where the girl she'd been dreaming about for so many years lay helpless on the floor. Hardly sparing a second glance at anything other than the rapidly growing pool of blood that surrounded Santana, Brittany put her hands on both sides of the other girl's face, forcing her to open her eyes.

"Santana, I need you to look at me."

"Brittany Pierce?" The fast fading girl rasped out. "It's this a dream."

"Yeah." Brittany let out a strangled laugh, not wanting the other girl to start panicking and make the situation worse. "It's all a dream. You're going to wake up soon and it will all be okay. But you've gotta look at me. Look in my eyes."

"They're beautiful. I could look into them forever." She sighed dreamily, but despite her words, Santana's eyes began to close, and Brittany felt herself start to panic.

Knowing she didn't have much more time to waste, Brittany tore the buttons from Santana's dress, and fought the urge to be sick at the gaping wound that ripped through Santana's perfectly toned stomach. It didn't matter what happened in the aftermath, she couldn't just sit there and let another human being bleed out in her arms, let alone the human that she just so happened to be in love with. Continuing to cup one of Santana's cheeks with her hand, forcing her not to break eye contact, Brittany pressed the other over the injury, a shuddering wince wracking the brunette's body at the contact. Not exactly the way the first physical contact with Santana Lopez ever went in Brittany's dream's. Pushing all other thoughts from her mind, Brittany's focused on the healing of organs, tissue, skin, carefully piecing everything back together with just the power of her touch. What the blonde didn't know though, was that without provocation, so much of Santana's mind would be open to her, and she couldn't what flowed from one mind to the other through their physical connection.

_A five year old Santana sitting up on the counter in the very same diner, swinging her legs and patiently waiting for her father to make her a milkshake, her hair pulled back in two braids and dirty green Converse sneakers on her feet._

_Santana a few years older, glaring across the playground at Quinn, and her eyes slightly softening when she caught sight of Brittany._

_Santana beating the hell out of Noah Puckerman for taunting her._

_The first day of high school, Santana's red and white uniform hugging every curve of her body and a seductive grin on her face._

_Santana kissing that blonde cheerleader in the locker room._

_Santana and Mercedes sitting on a bed, mooning over pictures in a yearbook that Brittany couldn't see._

_Santana in the diner, laughing hard with Mercedes, rolling her eyes, being so beautifully, painfully normal._

There was so much Santana surrounding Brittany that it became too much to take. When she was finally able to pull away from the dark skinned girl, she assessed her work, and saw that the once destroyed flesh was whole again. Brittany breathed a sigh if relief, and then panic came at her like a freight train when she realized what she'd done, what she'd put at risk. Brittany was in love with Santana, Brittany saved Santana's life, and Brittany had a gigantic flashing sign over her head that read  _Alien Freak_. When Santana's eyes opened, she stared at the girl still hovering above her, and just as she opened her mouth to scream out, something in Brittany's eyes stopped her.

"You fell. The gun went off and you got scared. You broke this bottle and spilled ketchup on yourself." Brittany shattered a bottle and poured it over the dried blood on Santana's dress. "Please, Santana. I'll explain everything later, just  _please_."

Without waiting for a response, Brittany hopped back over the counter and into the hellfire that was burning in Quinn's eyes. Neither she, nor Sam said anything, but Quinn grabbed Brittany roughly by the arm and dragged her out to the car, shoving her into the backseat while Sam started the ignition.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Quinn roared, slapping at Brittany's shoulders. "How stupid can you be? It's over. It's fucking over Brittany."

"Don't call me  _stupid_." Brittany looked down, avoiding Quinn's eyes. "Stupid would be leaving her there to die when I was perfectly capable of saving her life. So just shut up."

"Shut up?  _Shut up?_  You just exposed yourself in front of half of the town, and you want me to shut up? Sam, back me up here."

"Sam, say you wouldn't have done it if it were Mercedes." Brittany challenged.

"Don't put me in the middle."

"Pick a side for once!" Quinn shrieked at him.

"There aren't sides!" Brittany screamed, banging her head against the window. "We are all on the same side, Quinn."

"The same  _screwed_  side. You took it upon yourself to put all of us at risk because of a stupid crush you have on a girl who isn't even worth it."

"Stop saying stupid." Sam spoke up. "Just stop fighting, both of you, for one goddamn second of your lives. We need to focus, we need to come up with a story to tell Santana, and we need to come up with it quick."

"I'm telling her the truth."

"Oh no you're not!"

"You're not my boss, Quinn. I'm sick of taking orders from you, I'm sick of you treating me like I'm incapable to making decisions."

"Obviously you just proved your point so well." Quinn rolled her eyes. "We are so fucked."

"She's not going to say anything."

"I'm glad you're so sure of that." Quinn spit sarcastically. "I give it until the end of the day before we are locked up in some kind of facility because your little girlfriend told the police that one of the little freaks magically healed her mortal wound. Tell me, Brittany, tell me that you're positive she won't do that."

"I...I can't." Brittany admitted defeat, and Quinn started punching her fists against the seat.

"Hey, chill out Quinn." Sam looked in the rear view mirror.

"Chill out? Seriously, you want me to  _chill out_? We are completely fucked, I've earned the right to lose it! Why am I the only one who sees how bad this is?"

"You're not. We all know, but screaming and calling Brittany stupid isn't going to do anything."

"Fix this." Quinn hissed, and Brittany could do nothing but nod and swallow hard, hoping she hadn't been wrong about Santana Lopez.

* * *

Shakily getting back onto her feet, after what was clearly the most mind boggling thing that had ever happened to her, Santana looked around the diner, trying to make sense of everything that had happened to her. Before she could do anything else, Mercedes was running toward her, throwing her arms around her friend, looking like she was about three seconds from bursting into tears.

"Santana!" She shrieked, her mouth a gape at the giant red stain on her dress.

"Ketchup, it's ketchup." Santana managed, eyes blinking furiously as she tried to piece together the last six minutes of her life. "I'm fine. Fine. Just a broken bottle, that my dad will probably take out of my paycheck."

"I thought you got shot! So help me, Santana Lopez, you die and leave me alone in this cow town, I will dig up your body and kill you again."

"I'm fine." Santana repeated, feeling far less than fine as thoughts of pleading blue eyes consumed her mind. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"What was Brittany Pierce doing back here?" Mercedes demanded, ignoring Santana's question.

"Seeing if I was okay, since my best friend apparently left me to die." She managed to joke.

"Shut up, I was in shock, okay? Also, you know blood totally flips me out, if you were shot, I wouldn'a wanted to see that shit."

"Nice."

"Told you blondie had it bad for you. Jumping over counters to save the life of her damsel in distress."

"She didn't save my life." Santana lied again, her throat scratchy with tears as she tried not to think about the fact that Brittany  _did_  save her life. She had been dead, bleeding out on the floor and the ever mysterious Brittany Pierce touched her, and suddenly, she was alive again. What did that even mean? Who or  _what_ was that girl? "Unless I had been deathly allergic tomatoes. I'm fine, now stop touching me, I don't care if you want all up on this, you're freaking me out."

"God only knows why I was praying for you to live, bitch."

Thwacking Mercedes upside the head with an order pad and snatching the towel her friend held up, pressing it over the red splotch on her uniform, at least pretending that everything was completely normal and she hadn't just been revived from the dead by a gorgeous blonde, Santana braced herself against the counter as her father came running in, Sheriff Burt Hummel hot on his heels. She hadn't even thought about the police getting involved, but it was Roswell, the only remotely police worthy thing that had happened in the past year had been when Rachel Berry shattered her neighbor's window, for some reason thinking Barbra Streisand was in the house. An almost shooting ( _an almost shooting_ , Santana had to keep convincing herself of that) would be headline news for weeks.  _Headline news for weeks_ , Santana groaned inwardly, thinking of being the center of yet another story in Roswell. Shaking her head, her thoughts unwillingly went back to Brittany. Brittany. She'd hardly ever exchange words with the girl, and yet she'd saved her life. But how? How did she even  _do_  that? Santana's mind was reeling when her father's arms around her once again slapped her back to reality.

" _Mija, dios mio! Estas bien? Qué paso?_ "

"I'm fine, Papí. Some i _diotas_  were fighting, and a gun went off and I threw myself to the ground. Just ketchup." She pulled away, gesturing to her stomach and feeling like she would repeat that lie a million times in her life. A lie, for Brittany Pierce. Brittany who she hardly knew. Brittany who had saved her life, or  _brought her back to life_ , or something.

" _Gracia de dio!_ "

"You sound like Mamí. I'm fine, I promise." Santana squeezed the towel in her hands tighter, hoping to stop their shaking. "Can we maybe not tell her about this?"

"Santanita! Your mother will kill  _me_  if we keep this from her. You were almost shot."

"But I wasn't."  _Lies, lies, lies_ , was all Santana could think, every time the words came out of her mouth. It was a good thing she was nothing if not an expert liar.

"Sorry to interrupt." Burt said as he approached from where he had been speaking to one of the customers who'd witnessed the scene, tipping his hat to Santana. Over his shoulder, she watched as Mercedes spoke to a deputy, wildly gesticulating as she described the man who'd pulled out a gun. Santana couldn't help but roll her eyes at the dramatics, and yet, she had the  _right_  to be dramatic, sort of. "But Miss Lopez, I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's alright."

"That's fine, Sheriff." Santana nodded, hopping up onto a stool at the counter. "But I didn't see much."

Never letting the towel leave where she'd pressed it up against her stomach, Santana described the men who were fighting, retold the story about the damn ketchup bottle, and pressed two fingers against her temple, trying to stave off the impending migraine from the ridiculousness of the day. Sheriff Hummel never wrote anything down, he just watched her, almost like he was expecting her to be lying. Santana tried to shake it off, because  _why_  would anyone lie about  _not_ being shot, but she couldn't help but squirm in her seat.

"Are you alright, Miss Lopez?"

"Just a little shaken up. I thought today would be a slow day." She attempted to joke.

"I only have a few more questions for you. There was a girl who came up to you after the gun went off, who was she?"

"I don't know." Santana tried to keep her breathing steady, and she didn't know why she hadn't just told Sheriff Hummel that it was Brittany, checking if she was okay, but something deep inside her told her that she shouldn't ever mention the other girl's name in association with the incident. It didn't take long before she felt Mercedes' eyes boring into her, and she hoped,  _prayed_  that her friend wouldn't reveal that she'd lied. "She must not have been from around here, but she was closest to the counter, so..."

"Well where did she go?"

"Honestly, Sheriff, like I said, I'm pretty shaken up, I didn't really pay attention to where she'd gone. She asked if I was okay, I told her I was, and then she left. That's all. Why does that matter?"

" _Everything_  matters in an investigation, Miss Lopez." The officer told her, and Santana couldn't help but feel that there was something ominous behind his words.

"Is it alright if I go now? I'd really like to shower, you know, I'm a little sticky and all." She flashed him her flirtiest smile, and it didn't matter that the whole town knew she was a lesbian, she was still hot, and it worked, every single time.

"Yes, thank you. Go on and clean yourself up. But call me if you remember anything else from this afternoon. Pretty close call you had, and we'd like to make sure to keep Roswell as safe as possible."

"Definitely, sir. And thank you, you know, for keeping us all safe." Santana put on her best  _daughter of the oldest family in Roswell_  smile and turned to walk away.

"Santana." Her father get stopped her, and she tilted her head to look at him.

"Please, Papí, can we talk later?"

"I was just going to tell you again that I'm glad you're alright." Javier Lopez said with a soft smile, and Santana gave him another hug, clinging to him tightly.

* * *

When Santana had finally managed to separate herself from her father, she stepped through the door to the kitchen, bracing herself against the wall so she could finally have a second to catch her breath. In the span of forty-five minutes, she'd been shot, been extremely close to death, been revived by an extremely hot  _something_  that she'd secretly been admiring from a far since the blonde first developed that awesome body, and had lied to Sheriff Hummel, simply because Brittany had asked her to, giving her no further explanation to what had even occurred. Santana Lopez had been looking for something other than the mind numbing monotony of her day to day life for  _years,_  and somehow, she seemed to have stumbled across it in the most unexpected way possible.

"Santana!" Mercedes called out, just as Santana had taken the first step up to the second floor of the diner where she and her parents lived. "Want to tell me what the hell just happened out there?"

"Nothing happened, 'Cedes."

"Don't play games with me." Mercedes put her hands on her hips, giving Santana a state down that only she was capable of. "I just watched you completely lie to Sheriff Hummel."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, you don't? So if I go out there and tell him that it was  _Brittany Pierce_  who came up to you after the gun went off, he'd already have that information?"

"Don't!" Santana nearly shouted. "Don't you dare."

"I'm not one of your Cheerios, Lopez, in case you forgot. you don't get to order me around."

"Mercedes, please." Santana switched tactics, sounding desperate. "Just don't say anything, okay?"

"I don't know what the hell you got yourself into, but lying to the sheriff? That ain't gonna end pretty. And it doesn't even make sense. Why does it matter that Brittany went to see if you were okay?"

"Just give me some time, okay? I'll explain it all to you when I figure out  _myself_ why I just did that." Santana looked Mercedes in the eye, and sensing her best friend's desperation, she softened.

"Fine." Mercedes conceded. "But it's me, don't you forget that. We've basically got a sworn blood oath to each other."

"I kill them, you help hide the body, and vice versa." Santana tried  _again_  to joke, but the words  _kill_ and  _body_  hit a little too close to home, causing her to shiver. "I just...I need to shower, okay? This day has been totally fucked up."

"Yeah basically. But at least we can head out early, right?"

"Right." Santana choked out a laugh, and let Mercedes hug her again.

* * *

It was four hours after  _the incident_ , as Quinn had insisted upon calling it (well, after she'd changed the name from  _the moment Brittany acted like a fucking idiot and ruined all of our lives_ ), and Brittany was sitting alone on her bed, debating the pros and cons of telling Santana the truth. So far, the con side seemed to be much bigger than the pro, with items such as  _Quinn will murder me in my sleep_ and  _Santana will never look at me like I'm not a mutant freak,_ weighing heavy on Brittany's mind. The thing was though, even though she'd shared very few actual conversations with Santana Lopez, Brittany was  _well_ aware that the girl was relentless, and knew that if she decided against telling her the truth, she needed to figure out a damn good story to tell her. Something that she was sure would be no easy feat.

Flopping herself back against the pillows in frustration, Brittany let out a heavy groan. This was why Quinn emotionally distanced herself from everyone, this was why Quinn never bothered to spare anyone, male or female, a second glance. Brittany though, she got too involved, even without trying. What Brittany had believed as a child to simply be jealousy for the normal life that Santana had, had turned out to be what she was nearly one-hundred-percent certain was total and complete unrequited love. Covering her face with a pillow and screaming into it, Brittany wished the day had never happened, wished that some Neanderthal looking man hadn't pulled out a gun, wished that Santana had never been shot, wished that she hadn't been forced to choose between keeping her secret and letting the girl who might never have spared her a second glance otherwise die. Because the truth was, even if Santana thought she was the biggest of freaks, even if Santana picked up the phone and called the FBI, even if she was poked and prodded and tortured, there was no way in any world that Brittany Pierce could have possibly sat there and let Santana Lopez die.

Deciding that her best bet was probably to just go to bed and go back to contemplating the future of her entire existence, despite the fact that it was barely after eight, Brittany closed her eyes, hoping that Sam wouldn't knock on her door to play video games (because really, even if the world was ending, her brother would  _still_  be playing Halo), her parents wouldn't want to go for ice cream, or Quinn wouldn't call to yell at her some more. Just when sleep was nearly a reality, there was a banging against the glass of Brittany's window, and jumped up, so startled that she rolled right off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. When she looked up from where she fell, there was Santana on the other side of the glass, wearing a completely unreadable expression.

"Hi." Brittany said quietly, opening the window. "You know where I live?"

"We've been in the same class since the third grade, obviously I know where you live."

"Oh, right."

"Can I come in?" Santana asked, and Brittany's heart fluttered. Santana Lopez, in her bedroom, it was the  _the dream_  come true. But once a millisecond passed, she remembered what had happened earlier in the day, and why her dream girl had come to her window. Time for decision making was up.

"Yeah, um, come on in." Brittany stepped to the side, and Santana climbed through the window. "Do you want a drink or something? Do you want to sit down? Are you hungry?"

"Let's just cut to the chase, Brittany." With those words, Santana began lifting up her tank top, and Brittany was pretty sure that she had died, or was in the midst of one of her many Latina head Cheerio sex dreams. She felt the blush creep up her neck, and then suddenly, her blood just about ran cold when she looked down at Santana's stomach. There, splayed against that perfect, perfect caramel colored skin was the silver mark of a handprint. And not just any handprint,  _Brittany's_  handprint.

"Oh. Shit."

"Yeah." Santana snorted bitterly. "Add a few more  _shits_  and a  _fuck_  or two and you've nailed my reaction. I want answers, and I want them now."

"I don't know what you want me to say." Brittany intentionally looked away from Santana's stomach, both because the mark there made her burn with shame that she was basically a freak, and the amount of flawless, flawless skin exposed made her burn in an entirely different way.

"How about you tell me the truth? How about you tell me why I went from being  _dead_ , from seeing black and then that cliche flash of light at the end of a tunnel to waking up completely alive and looking into your eyes? How about you tell me how I ended up with a glowing silver handprint,  _your_  glowing silver handprint branded into my skin?"

"It'll fade." Brittany mumbled.

"Not really the point, Brittany." Santana spit, anger flaring inside of her. She didn't like being kept in the dark, she didn't like losing control and having no idea what was going on around her, she didn't like anything about this one bit, you know, except for the not being dead part. "I died. And now I'm alive, and I want to know how that happened."

"Incredible stroke of luck?" She tried, but when brown eyes met blue, Brittany knew that there was no possible way she could attempt to get around the truth. "You're probably not going to believe what I'm about to tell you."

"Until a few hours ago, I didn't believe that people could die and be revived by some magic touch, so go ahead, try me." Santana crossed her arms across her chest, biting her lip and staring at Brittany expectantly. Taking a moment, Brittany caught her breath and hoped that she wasn't about to make the biggest mistake of her life.

"So, you know the 1947 crash?" Brittany asked, and Santana gave her a face, asking if she was serious with that question. "Right. Sorry. So, I'm not really sure how it all worked, but I was a part of that crash."

"Do you really think I'm joking about wanting answers?"

"I told you that you weren't going to believe me."

"No, you're right. How am I supposed to believe that you're like a sixty something year old alien? You're not three feet tall and green, tell me the damn truth, Brittany."

"That's a  _stereotype_ , Santana." Brittany snipped, her /own/ anger beginning to rise. "Just because you're a lesbian doesn't mean I walk around thinking you wear flannel, eat jicama and play golf."

"Where did you even come up with half of those stereotypes?" Santana was completely appalled by Brittany's words.

"Bad television, same place I'm pretty sure you got yours. I'm telling you the truth. We were encased in some kind of incubation chamber, and then in 2003, we came out and looked like we were six years old."

"We?" Santana gasped, and Brittany covered her mouth, internally cursing herself for getting into  _deeper_  trouble.

"Sam and-"

"Quinn." Santana finished and Brittany simply nodded, playing with the strap of her bra and avoiding the other girl's eyes. "Fucking shit. I swear to God, if I'm on some episode of  _Punk'd_ right now, I'm going to fucking lose it."

"You're not." Brittany swore, starting to hold out her pinky, and then thinking better of it when she remembered the she was standing before the coolest girl in school, coolest girl in Roswell, maybe even the coolest girl on the entire planet, but she wasn't sure, since excepting whatever journey she'd taken, which she had absolutely no memory of, she'd never actually been outside of the small town.

"So you're some race of healing aliens from planet Vulcan or something? This isn't real, that bitch Kitty Wilde must have dropped me off the top of the pyramid at practice today. I never made it to the diner, I was never shot, this is all some kind of hallucination."

"Santana." Brittany reached out and touched her hand, causing Santana to jump at the contact, and the strange sparks she felt. "Your details are kind of off, but it's real. Trust me, it's real."

Santana Lopez wasn't the trusting type, she never had been, nor had her father before her, it was just par for the course of living in a town where everyone gossiped, and even being the oldest family (or maybe  _especially_  being the oldest family) didn't grant you immunity. But she also had never been the  _cover someone else's ass type,_ and apparently she'd already done that for Brittany, so that was strange even barring the fact that the girl in front of her was allegedly some type of extra terrestrial. When she raised her eyes back up to meet Brittany's, when she saw the sincerity there, when she realized that the blonde girl had quite possibly risked  _everything_  just to save her life, she once again found herself going completely out of character, and actually believing that she might actually be capable of trusting her.

"I really, really should have stayed home today." Santana pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling like everything had completely spiraled out of her control, and she was on the verge of some kind of complete breakdown that would probably end in padded walls and spoon feedings. "I need some help grasping this. I need you to tell me everything."

"I will." Brittany swore, not even feeling like she was making a wrong move. "I promise you, I'll tell you everything you want to know."


	2. Reese's Pieces

Wringing her hands, Brittany stared at Santana. It was still so much for her to take, the longtime object of her affections standing before her,  _in her bedroom_ , shirt still hitched up, waiting for answers. On the plus side, the girl hadn't run out screaming when Brittany had revealed the truth to her, but on the other, she didn't exactly look comfortable with the news either. Brittany had never known any different, she'd always known that aliens were real,  _obviously_ , but Santana had lived her entire life in a town where said creatures were a joke, a tourist trap, an incorrect visual emblazoned on t-shirts, mugs, the signs on nearly one-hundred percent of the stores in town, including the diner where she spent her afternoons and weekends actually  _dressed_  as one of the presumed fictional figures.

"Brittany." Santana's voice broke the blonde from her thoughts, and she swallowed hard, still attempting to decipher how to continue. "Are you going to tell me, or what?"

"I am." She affirmed. "I'm just trying to figure out how to start. I haven't exactly done this before."

"How about you start with why you're here? And before you decide to play coy with me, I mean here on this planet, not here in your bedroom."

"I don't actually know the answer to that question." Brittany shook her head, averting her gaze from the look of disbelief in Santana's eyes. "I don't, really."

"Fine." Santana huffed. "What planet are you from then?"

"I don't...I don't know that answer either." Brittany shifted uncomfortably.

"Well what  _do_  you know then?" Santana tried not to roll her eyes at the lack of explanation she was getting, but she'd come to the conclusion that her night was going to be even longer than her day had been.

"All I know is that at some point in the middle of the night on April 15th, 2003, Sam, Quinn and I crawled out of these pods, or something, and into the desert. Even after all this time, we've still only pieced together bits of what happened before that. I remember a purple lake, Sam remembers stars that he swears were a thousand times brighter than any we've ever seen here, even on the darkest night out in the desert, and Quinn, well, she says she doesn't remember things, just  _feelings_."

"What kind of feelings?"

"They're not really mine to tell." Brittany sighed. As much as she fought with Quinn, as much as the other girl drove her to the point that she thought she was going to lose her mind, forcing her to behave like a recluse, never letting her or Sam have any type of fun, one of the strongest urges that Brittany ever felt in her life, human or otherwise, was to protect the third member of their little band of misfits.

"Why wasn't...?" Santana started, but then trailed off, pulling her bottom lip back in between her teeth, wondering if the unspoken question would be met with the same response as her last.

"Why wasn't Quinn found with Sam and me?" Brittany finished, and Santana gave a hesitant nod. "I remember holding her hand, and she didn't want to leave the place where we born, or hatched, or whatever it was that happened out there. But Sam, he saw lights, and he started walking toward them, and I couldn't just let him go out there alone."

"Okay." Santana nodded, wanting to ask so many more questions about Quinn, but the slightest shake of Brittany's head and the sadness that seemed to pass over her features when talking about it halted her curiosity. "So, the Pierces adopted you and Sam, and you've been living with them ever since, but they never figured out that you're...different?"

"We've had some close calls, but once we realized that other people, or, I guess, people in general, weren't like us, we knew that we had to hide it. And we've always been really careful."

"Until today." Santana pointed out, and Brittany felt the blush creep up her neck and color her cheeks. "Why, Brittany? Why did you risk everything, for me?"

"I couldn't just stand there and watch you die."

"People die all the time."

Brittany chose not to speak, and with the lull in conversation, the only sound in the room was that of Sam yelling at something in his game from the other side of the wall. The question Santana had asked wasn't one that Brittany was willing to answer, even if that was an answer that she clearly  _did_ have. She'd already revealed one of her deepest secrets to the girl, she  _wouldn't_ tell the other. Santana's eyes remained locked with Brittany's, desperately wanting to know, halfway believing that maybe the answer was the one she'd hoped to hear, that Brittany Pierce thought she, the smallest of small town girls, was something truly special, special beyond her name, or her cheerleading uniform, special to the very root of her soul, but she shook off the hope, instead breaking away from those piercing blue eyes and turning her attention back to the glowing mark on her abdomen.

"Okay what about how? How did you do it?" She asked, gesturing to her stomach, hoping  _maybe_  that was a question that Brittany would actually be able to answer for her.

"I dissolved the bullet and repaired the tissue it damaged."

"So you all have this ability? To heal people, I mean."

"Yes and no. We can all alter molecular structure, I guess, but I've always been the only one who's been able to do any actual healing."

"You've healed before?" Santana looked at Brittany, feeling even more confused, and admittedly, slightly dejected that there were others like her.

"Not a person. I wasn't even sure I could do that, until you. My cat, Lord Tubbington, was mauled pretty bad by a raccoon once, and I took care of him, and there were a few birds that  _he_  mauled, but that's it. Sam's tried, and I'm pretty sure Quinn has too, but with no luck."

"So only you can heal, but you all can move molecules, or whatever?" Santana had begun a mental list, realizing that with every scrap of information that Brittany revealed, she felt even more in the dark.

"Yes."

"How does that work, exactly?"

Brittany was never particularly good with words, especially when she fell under the scrutinizing gaze of a person, and  _extra_ -specially when said gaze was from the beautiful girl that she just so happened to be hopelessly in love with. Reaching past where Santana stood, accidentally (seriously, accidentally) brushing a bare tan shoulder with her wrist and eliciting shivers on both ends of the contact, Brittany grabbed the stuffed green alien plush that sat atop her desk. She didn't miss Santana's playful eye roll when she noticed what the blonde had picked up, and she also didn't miss the warmth that such a tiny gesture brought over her entire body. Slowly waving her right hand over figure, the figure turned the brightest shade of purple, and Santana's mouth dropped open.

"You're really not kidding." She mumbled, shaking away her scattered thoughts. "Holy shit."

"You still thought I was kidding?"

"I don't know what to think anymore." Santana sighed, bringing her fingers up to pinch her nose again. "None of this makes any sense."

"I've been living it for eleven years, and it still doesn't make any sense to me."

"So you're just stuck here? What about your home planet."

"This is the only planet I even really know at this point. There's been no crop circles, or bicycling over a moon, or any of that to tell me where I belong."

"Now who's stereotyping?" Santana took a chance and teased Brittany, for some strange reason (among all the other strange) feeling comfortable enough to do so.

"Well, I do like Reese's Pieces." Brittany joked back, the smallest smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"And here I though that was just bad movie product placement. I keep guess I can stop telling my father to take them out of every dessert on our menu, now that I know it's authentic. So what else is authentic alien food, give me something to go to my father with to add to the menu."

"No, Santana!" Brittany's eyes widened, and she felt deep, dark fear clutch at her chest again. "You can't do that."

"I'm sorry!" Santana gasped out quickly, realizing immediately that she crossed the line from teasing into some other territory. "Brittany, I wouldn't. But I don't understand why, why you saved my life, and how anyone could ever possibly think that was a  _bad_  thing?"

"You live in Roswell, you should know this. The rumors, I don't know if they're true or not, but there had to be others that helped get us here, since we obviously weren't capable of doing that on out own in whatever state of suspended animation we were in. Something had to have happened to them, and since no one has ever reached out and tried to find us, I can't imagine that whatever happened was a good thing." Brittany shuddered at the thought, shuddered at the thought of the images in the window of the UFO museum, the US Army securing the perimeters around the site of the crash, of beings like her getting spliced open on medical examination tables in some unknown facility. Real or not real, it was terrifying. "People are afraid of what they don't understand, Santana."

"I'm not afraid of you." Santana said suddenly, looking once again into Brittany's eyes. "I don't really understand you, or this, anything really, but I know somehow that you don't scare me. Sheriff Hummel came to the diner after you left."

"What did you tell him?" Brittany swallowed hard, trying to reconcile the fluttering in her chest at Santana telling her she wasn't afraid, and the suspicious hammering that followed at the mention of the sheriff.

"Someone told him that a girl came up to me, I told him that I didn't recognize you, and that you probably weren't from around here."

"You lied for me."

"Well, not totally. I mean, you're  _not_  really from around here, are you?"

"No. I guess I'm not." The smallest of smiles played on Brittany's lips, and she reached out to Santana, tenderly pulling her shirt back down to cover her stomach.

"I don't think Hummel's a bad guy."

"Neither do I." Brittany admitted. "But like I said, people are afraid of what they don't know. And his father..."

"Is locked up in a New Mexico State hospital for spending his life chasing aliens." Santana finished, the realization of how personal this could get hitting her.

"Burt Hummel is the one who found us out there, and I'm pretty sure he's never stopped questioning why we were there in the first place. He was born into a family where chasing the unknown was normal."

Neither girl said anything, they were caught up in trying to understand the whole of it. It was Santana who's mind shifted to something different first. Call it hero worship, call it fascination, it didn't really matter what it was, Santana's eyes flicked down to Brittany's lips, and she considered them for a moment, considered the consequences of pressing her own lips to them (did consequences even matter anymore?). Some inexplicable pull drew Santana toward the blonde, and she didn't know how to stop herself, didn't even  _want_  to stop herself.

Brittany noticed what she was doing, because really, for years, she had taken notice of every single thing that Santana did, and the thought of the other girl kissing her, taking control, throwing Brittany down on the bed and having her way with her, making every human fantasy that the girl who was  _not_  human ever had both aroused her and completely terrified her. She felt the same pull, a pull that was different somehow than the possibility of having her fantasies fulfilled, but years of carefully practiced self control let her break free of it. As Santana took a step forward, Brittany bit her lip and took a step back, using every last ounce of self control that she possessed.

"Santana." She scolded gently. "We can't."

"Why?" Hurt flashed in Santana's eyes as her pride was marred, and she played with the hem of her shirt, wanting to pretend that being rejected by Brittany was no big deal, but failing miserably.

"It's not safe."

"I was shot today, and  _kissing_ you isn't safe?"

"None of it is safe. But kissing me, getting involved with me, that's probably the most dangerous thing there is, for both of us."

"Fine." Santana huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "So then what are we supposed to do now?"

"Nothing. We go back to normal. We pretend that today never happened, we pretend that a gun went off in the diner, you broke a bottle, and I was never there, just like you told everyone else."

"How am I supposed to do that, Brittany? How am I supposed to pretend that you're not the reason I'm even living and breathing?"

"I don't know. All I know is that there's no other way. I saved you, because I couldn't stand the idea of you being hurt, and if we don't do things this way, you're at risk, and I don't want that to happen."

"Okay then." Santana squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from Brittany, moving back toward the window.

"Thank you." Brittany whispered.

"I think I should be the one saying that to you."

"Nothing to thank me for." She shrugged, immediately starting the ruse they would enact. "But Santana?"

"Yeah?" Santana turned back around, and couldn't help but take one last look into Brittany's blue eyes. "If it's any consolation, if things were different, I totally would have let you kiss me."

"It's not." She snorted, the rejection still stinging. "Bye, Brittany. See you around."

* * *

When Santana left, Brittany closed and locked the window behind her and stood watching her walk down the stone pathway and out of the yard, fading out of sight as she made her way down the brightly lit street. With a deep sigh, she collapsed back onto her bed. Talk about having everything she ever wanted in her grasp and letting it disappear just as quickly as it came. It was for the best, she  _knew_  it was for the best, but I didn't mean that the hurt in Santana's eyes burned Brittany any less. It was too dangerous, whether she knew exactly how or not, Brittany was unwilling to put anyone else at risk,  _especially_  her. Closing her eyes again, Brittany tried to forget the buzz that coursed through her body when Santana had touched her, the crackling anticipation in the split second between when Santana had leaned into kiss her, and when Brittany had made the decision to stop her, even the oddly possessive feeling that she got seeing Santana bearing the mark that she'd been saved. But feelings couldn't matter, not for Brittany, not with Quinn breathing down her neck, not with the sheriff asking questions about what happened in the diner, not with the fate of her entire existence resting on  _not_  showing said feelings.

"So you told her." Quinn's voice snapped Brittany from her thoughts, and she jerked upright in bed. Apparently, she'd been so deep in trying  _not_  to think, that she'd missed the telltale noise of Quinn popping the lock on the window and climbing inside. Clearly, that window was getting a lot of action ( _much more than I am_ , Brittany thought sourly) and Brittany was never going to get any sleep.

"You were spying on me." Brittany shot back. "I told you that I was telling her the truth, and I did."

"Yeah, you told me you were, I just didn't think you'd actually do it." Brittany could hear the sound of Quinn's teeth gritting, and when she looked down, there was a duffel bag between Quinn's feet. "I hope you packed your bags. Doesn't look like your news was met with a parade of rainbows and unicorns that you expected, huh Brittany?"

"You talk about acting normal and blending in, and yet you show not  _one_  scrap of human emotion. Ever. Why don't you talk  _to_  me instead of talking  _at_  me?"

"Newsflash, we're not human. Look what _happens_  when you show human emotion!" Quinn hissed, stiffening her spine as she stared down Brittany.

"Stop talking to me like that!" Brittany demanded, clenching her fists at her sides. She wasn't the type to get angry, she was pretty sure that somehow Quinn had gotten all of her share and more, but she was still reeling from the events of the day, and Quinn's constant need to condescend to her was causing that mostly unfamiliar feeling to spark.

Sam chose that exact moment to knock on the door, probably having heard the commotion through the wall, and Brittany called out for him to come in. Even if Sam definitely didn't agree with what she'd put at risk, and told her as much, at least he'd be on her side about how unnecessary it was for Quinn to constantly put her down. When he entered the room, he looked between the two girls and sighed, knowing that he'd walked in on round four-thousand-six-hundred-seventy-nine of angry Quinn versus frustrated Brittany.

"What happened now?" He asked, knowing immediately upon the words leaving his mouth that it was actually a stupid question.

"She told Santana the truth."

"And what happened?"

"I was getting to that part before Quinn decided that she already knew what happened and wouldn't let me speak."

"Please, Brittany. I'm sure she told you she wasn't going to say anything, and you got all mooney over her.  _Oh, Santana, you're so perfect and wonderful and I'll believe anything that passes through those beautiful lips of yours_." Quinn mimicked. "And then she'll go home, realize that she's sitting on a goddamn gold mine of information, and then we are done for. How many times have we agreed, trust no one?"

"Life is not a science fiction movie." Brittany said, then a smile played involuntarily on her lips, thinking of her conversation with Santana. "And we never agreed, you made the decision, and no one wanted to even discuss it with you, because you throw tantrums whenever you don't get your way."

"You think everyone is trustworthy. Wasn't it just last year that you wanted to tell Susan and Evan?"

"Actually, she didn't." Sam defended. "All she said was that she _wished_  we could tell mom and dad, and you jumped down her throat."

"Because it's-"

"Let her tell us what actually happened." Sam cut her off, and Brittany gave her brother a small, grateful smile.

Choosing her words carefully, Brittany told them about Santana coming in and showing her the handprint, the mark that she'd forgotten in the heat of the moment that her actions would leave, and their subsequent conversation. The thing was though, it was impossible to describe the sincerity in the girl's eyes, or the strange sort of connection she felt, a connection that had nothing to do with her distant affections for Santana Lopez. Brittany knew, undoubtedly, that the trust she'd placed in the girl she'd saved would never be broken. But even if she told Quinn as much, even if she told Quinn about the almost-kiss (which she wouldn't, because there were some things she wanted to keep for herself, and Santana looking at her with affection, Santana not seeing her as the freak she usually felt like were among those things), Quinn would call her a dreamer, and a fool. Sam would understand her on a different level, he always had, but she'd done enough putting him in the middle for one day.

"Why was Hummel so interested in who came up to her after the gun went off?" Sam asked, picking up the purple stuffed alien on the desk and shooting Brittany a quizzical look.

"I don't know ." Brittany confessed, and chose to ignore the look on Quinn's face. "You know he makes me nervous. And you know if he knew it was me..."

"Well-" Quinn opened her mouth to speak, and Sam raised his hand to her with a shake of his head.

"He's got nothing to go on, there are no cameras in the diner, and no one got hurt. As long as Santana isn't going to say anything, we just lay low, and soon enough, everyone will forget about it."

"That's a big  _if_ you're betting on, Sam."

"She's not going to say anything." Brittany said quietly, the energy to fight basically sapped from her. "I know she's not."

"I'm watching her, and I'm watching Hummel too, just in case." Quinn glared at Brittany, daring her to challenge that, but she simply nodded, knowing whether she agreed or not, Quinn would still do it.

"Are you staying over?" Brittany asked, because even when Quinn was a bitch (which was 99.9% of the time), she still would never not offer her an out from the drunken rantings of her foster mother Judy Fabray.

"Nope. If we're not skipping town, I'm going to enjoy the fact that Judy's at one of her Bible retreats, and I'll have the place to myself." Her voice was less harsh than it had been all day, more likely than not at the possibility of not having to deal with the woman who kept her around for booze money. "I'll fill you in on what I find out tomorrow."

"Be careful, Quinn." Sam warned. "The last thing we need is for you to get caught breaking in somewhere."

"Right, the last thing..." She trailed off, throwing her bag back over her shoulder and climbing out the window, not even turning around as she did.

"Britt." Sam started, and she shook her head.

"I've been yelled at enough for one lifetime today, I know you agree with Quinn, and I really do appreciate you not shoving that in my face in front of her, but I can't deal with any more tonight."

"I'm not saying anything else, I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Not really." Brittany ran her fingers through blonde hair, and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, knowing if she didn't, she'd end up giving an involuntary pout.

"She didn't react as well as you're pretending, did she?"

"No Sam, that's the problem. She reacted  _so_  much better."

* * *

Santana somehow managed to make it through half of the next day of school without her thoughts being entirely consumed by Brittany Pierce (if she had two thoughts that weren't about her, that counts as not being entirely consumed, right?). She just couldn't understand what had transpired the night before, Brittany saved her life, Brittany confessed that she was one of the goddamn Roswell aliens, Brittany joked around with her, and after Santana had tried to kiss her, Brittany had said that they couldn't, even if she wanted to. The entire thing had frustrated Santana to no end, and all she wanted to do was do what she'd been asked and forget the entire thing ever happened. Of course, she'd be about five seconds from doing that, and her hand would, if it's own volition, slip under her Cheerios top and fall to rest on the handprint, on  _Brittany's_ handprint. Santana swore that it heated up every time she thought of the blonde's catlike eyes, her perfect teeth, the laugh that she was sure didn't happen enough (how could it, if she spent all her time with Quinn Fabitch?) but she tried to chalk all that up to her imagination.

Her fruitless efforts were completely stalled as she was walking down the hall to English class (Brittany was in that class, how could she pretend everything was normal when the blonde sat two rows ahead of her?) and Mercedes grabbed her roughly by the arm. Had it been anyone else, Santana would have jerked away and told then to go fuck themselves, but it was her best friend, her best friend who she'd been actively avoiding, and sighing deeply, she followed Mercedes into the janitor's closet.

"I always knew you wanted to get me in here." Santana snarked. "Sorry though, you're not really my type Ce."

"Shut up, Lopez. You know damn well why we are in here."

"If this is still about the  _nothing_  that happened in the diner yesterday, I'm out of here. I have English."

"Oh right, I forgot, wouldn't want to be late. Your girlfriend is in that class."

"She's not my  _girlfriend_." Santana spit, her eyes widening as Mercedes reached into her bag and pulled out an order pad. There, speckling the white paper was blood,  _Santana's_  blood. She swallowed hard, panic once again rising in her chest.

"You still want to tell me that nothing happened? Do you still want to tell me that you spilled ketchup?"

"I..." Santana was, for possibly the first time in her life, at a loss for words. There, right in front of her, was hard and fast evidence that something had actually happened. Blindly reaching out to snatch the pad, Mercedes whipped it away from her, features hard as her eyes bored into Santana.

"I  _knew_  it. I knew that you were shot. And I know that Brittany did something to you. I don't know what it was, and I don't know why you're covering it up, but you're going to tell me."

"Mercedes Whitney Jones, I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't like your threatening tone."

"And I don't like that you're playing me for a fool. When have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"

"It's not about trust. God, you don't understand." Santana's desperation was apparent, but Mercedes wasn't having it.

"Make me understand then. Make me understand how the hell your blood got all over my order pad. Make me understand what the hell happened to you and why you're lying to your best friend for someone you've hardly ever exchanged words with."

"I can't." Santana's voice was hardly above a whisper, so torn between the world she's always known and the world she'd been asked to pretend didn't exist. "Please just trust me when I tell you that everything is fine."

"Trust works both ways."

"I trust you, I do, Mercedes."

"Obviously not enough." The anger in Mercedes voice faded to hurt, and she turned to walk away as Santana grabbed her arm.

"It's not my thing to tell."

"So there  _is_  a thing."

"Yes. No. I don't even know anymore. Can't you please just let it go?"

"No, I don't think I can. Whatever is going on, this isn't you, and I don't like it."

"So what, what are you going to do?" Santana crossed her arms across her chest in a defensive position and mustered every ounce of fight in her body to stare down Mercedes.

"Maybe I'll talk to someone who will actually listen to me."

"You wouldn't."

"You think I'm not caught up in whatever this is too? That when Sheriff Hummel asked me after you left if  _I_  knew the girl who went up to you? I covered your ass, Santana, for whatever reason it is that you lied to him. That makes me a damn good friend."

"I'm not saying you're not."

"Maybe not with words, but the way you're acting is saying something different."

"I asked you for time."

"Yeah, well that was before I saw this." She shook the order pad again, the only type of leverage Mercedes seemed to have in the situation, and she didn't back down from Santana's challenging stance.

"Twenty-four-hours. Please, I'll cover any shifts you want at the diner for the next year, I'll do your goddamn Spanish homework until we graduate. I am  _begging_  you right now for just a little bit more time before you turn on me. And you know I don't beg." Santana pleaded, unwilling to give up Brittany's secret without permission, even if she knew Mercedes would never reveal it if she just knew the truth, even if telling would be to keep Brittany safer.

"Before I _turn_  on you? Who even are you right now?" Mercedes stared horror struck, wondering if  _she_ had already gotten herself in too deep, wondering if it was drugs, or the Mob, or some kind of Satanic cult (oh God, the irony after years of calling her best friend  _Satan_ ), but even those things couldn't explain how Santana's blood, the dark kind, from a mortal wound, was on her order pad, and yet she was standing there, right as rain. "Fine, you've got one day, and then I'm doing whatever it takes to protect my ass, and probably yours too."

"Fine." Santana agreed, hoping that she wasn't making the stupidest mistake of her life.

Still visibly shaken from her encounter with Mercedes, Santana made her way into English class, mumbling some pathetic excuse to the teacher and taking her seat. She desperately needed to talk to Brittany, even though it had been less than eighteen hours since agreeing to do precisely _not_ that. Unsure how to do it without knowing the girl's phone number, or much more about her than the single most important thing, and afraid to wait until after dark, when she could climb back through her window, Santana resorted to doing things the old fashioned way, she wrote a note. Pretending to make her way to the back of the room to sharpen a pencil, Santana discreetly set the folded paper down on top of Brittany's florescent pink notebook, another shiver passing through her body, and a flicker of heat flaring in her abdomen as she accidentally brushed Brittany's arm with her finger tips while doing so.

Brittany noticed that Santana came into class late, of  _course_  she noticed, and she'd frowned in spite of herself at the distraught look on the other girl's face when she'd chanced a look at her. When she watched Santana stand again a few moments later, she figured she'd just get a nice view of her ass in that skirt (nothing wrong with checking out the merchandise, even if you're absolutely forbidden from buying), but she was shocked to see Santana slip the smallest scrap of paper in front of her, and she was even more shocked when she glanced up at the front of the room, and then took a chance opening it.  _Meet me in the janitor's closet, 6th period. It's important._  Underneath, she'd hastily scrawled something else, the writing much smaller than the rest.  _Reese's Pieces_. Swallowing hard, Brittany almost smiled at the use of code, but then remembered that passing notes in class, sneaking off into the janitor's closet, and especially discussing what had transpired the night before was exactly the opposite of how they'd agreed to proceed. Rereading the note, Brittany felt another wave of panic come over her;  _It's important_. What if Sheriff Hummel had asked her more questions? What if Santana had cracked under the pressure? Half expecting men in black suits to come rushing in, Brittany breathed a small sigh of relief when all seemed quiet.

* * *

"You came." Santana was half-surprised when Brittany opened the door to the janitor's closet ten minutes after sixth period had started, then turned the lock behind her. "Thanks."

"Well, it's my lunch, so...at least I wasn't cutting class or anything."

"I know. If it wasn't important, I wouldn't have asked you to come." Awkwardly, Santana dug through her bag, and upon closing her hand around the orange package, slowly slipped it out and handed it to Brittany. "In case you were hungry...or whatever."

"Thanks." Brittany felt her cheeks color at the small gesture, and she wished she could manipulate the molecular structure of her  _face_  so Santana wouldn't see the obvious effect she had on her. "So what's going on? Meeting in janitor's closets isn't exactly the normal behavior that we talked about."

"I know." Santana looked down, avoiding the burning gaze of blue eyes. Not an angry gaze, but what it was, she couldn't exactly place. "I think we might have a little problem with this whole normal thing."

"Santana-"

"Brittany, can I just talk for a second?" She knew that if Brittany started talking, she'd get all tripped up, and her fragile attempt at remaining calm after her meeting in the same janitor's closet hours early would shatter. Brittany simply nodded and Santana took a deep, desperate breath. "The problem with pretending like nothing happened, is that it actually _did_ , and I don't think either of us thought about the fact that blood spatters."

"I cleaned up." Brittany said quickly, mentally checking down the floor, the side of the counter, Santana's dress, which even in her haste, she'd brushed her hand over on the way out of the diner.

"I thought so too. I thought there would be blood on my dress, but when I took it off, there was nothing there. Then Mercedes showed me her order pad."

"Fuck." Brittany hissed through gritted teeth. She wasn't one for profanity, but there was seriously no other way to release her frustration at herself, and her absolute fear that while she knew in her bones that she could trust Santana not to turn her in, telling the girl she'd known since birth was a different story, and she didn't know Mercedes from Adam (though she wasn't exactly sure what that expression meant, what Adam had to do with anything, or who Adam even was).

"I didn't tell her anything." Santana said quickly.

"Thank you." Brittany breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's not that simple, Brittany. I tried, I swear, I kept trying to tell her it was nothing, but she was staring down at my blood, blood that obviously didn't come from a paper cut, and she knows I lied to the sheriff."

"I'll take care of it." The blonde tried to sound more confident then she felt, but Santana saw right through it.

"There's more. Sheriff Hummel talked to her again after I left. He's really interested in who the mysterious girl in the diner was."

"Quinn was right." Brittany started, and Santana involuntarily shivered. Brittany was all but admitting that she should have just let her die. "No, no, no. I don't mean it like that. I would save your life again if it came to it. I mean she was right that this was going to end up being completely beyond my control."

The two of them stood across from each other, neither saying a word, so similar to the night before in Brittany's room. Santana had an idea, but she wasn't sure that Brittany would even want to hear it, and she was more than sure, even without knowing a thing about Quinn Fabray beyond the tiny details Brittany had told her, that the other blonde would most definitely  _not_  be okay with it, and that she'd probably kill Santana herself for even thinking it. Sam was a wild card, she knew  _nothing_  about him, besides the fact that he had ridiculously large lips and spend most of his time staring at Mercedes.

"We could-"

"No." Brittany cut Santana off before she could even finish the sentence, knowing exactly what the other girl was going to say.

"Just hear me out."

"I wasn't even supposed to tell  _you_. I wasn't supposed to tell  _anyone_. The more people that know, the more dangerous it is for all of us."

"I told her I needed twenty-four hours and then I'd give her answers."

"You shouldn't make promises that you can't keep. It's not your secret to tell."

"You think I don't know that?" Santana slammed her hands against the chemical counter that she was leaning against. "If it were, I would have told her when she dragged my ass in here earlier today. But I'm not going to betray you, I don't understand what you did to me, Brittany, but it was more than just healing a gunshot wound. I feel like pretending it never happened or not, I'm tied to you now, by something I don't even understand, and all I want to do is keep  _you_  safe."

"I've already told you what would keep me safe."

"And that's not going to work any more. She's going to go to Hummel if we don't tell her something, and I'm not going to be able to stop her."

"This is your rationale for why we  _should_  tell her? That she'll turn us in if we don't? That makes you think she's trustworthy?"

"Yes!" Santana was growing increasingly frustrated, because she couldn't force her words to make any sense. "I know her, Brittany. I know her better than I know anyone else. If she just could understand what's at stake, she'd be on your side. She cares about me, and she thinks I'm involved with something dangerous."

"Well that's exactly the problem here, isn't it?" Brittany looked away sadly.

"You're not the dangerous one." Santana said quietly. "You're obviously not if you risked everything just so I could be standing here right now."

"I didn't have a choice." She murmured back, even quieter than Santana had been, rational thought unable to halt the confession about to escape from her lips, somehow understanding the inexplicable tether that Santana had spoke about. "Not when it was you."


	3. Alien Alliance

Immediately upon speaking those words, Brittany pulled her lips into her mouth, biting down hard with her front teeth. Being around Santana made her feel like she was living in some kind of alternate universe, a universe where instead of carefully measuring every word she spoke, her every thought bubbled out of her mouth. She had the sneaking suspicion that if she continued to exist on that alternate plane, it wouldn't be long before she was spilling that sometimes she didn't understand what people were talking about because she was so likely to mix up words, or that on occasion, she found herself confusing Mercedes Jones for the transgendered kid in her European History class (and she really didn't mean it to be offensive, yet another reason why she didn't speak often, her mind just raced so fast that a lot got jumbled). At the thought of Mercedes, Brittany's eyes snapped back up to meet Santana's. She  _did_  trust Santana, she trusted her when she said that the other girl could be trusted, but she know that she  _couldn_ _'_ _t_  let another person in. Just letting Santana in had tilted the world on it's axis, and she was  _definitely_  sure that wasn't one of her powers.

"You feel it too." Santana murmured. "I'm not crazy."

"I do." Brittany confirmed, because she couldn't lie to her, especially not when she was questioning her sanity on one thing Brittany knew wholeheartedly. "You're not."

"I don't understand it Brittany. I just don't understand why I've had exactly four conversations with you in my entire life, this one included, and yet I feel like I  _know_ you. I mean, I wasn't even sure you liked girls until like, yesterday, when you said...you know, but Mercedes kept saying you were always checking me out, and...ugh. Mercedes."

"Yeah." Brittany said quietly,  _Mercedes_ , Brittany couldn't let herself get distracted by feelings and strange magnetic pulls. This was exactly the reason that she couldn't get involved with Santana. Her mind got too cloudy, and God, thinking about wanting to kiss her and touch her and have tiny little half human-half alien babies with her was keeping her from the task at hand. "Let me figure it out."

"No." Santana put her hands on her hips, feeling like all she'd been doing in the nineteen-hours and four minutes since she's been shot was argue. Argue with Mercedes, argue with Brittany, and most of all, argue with herself. "Whether or not you want me involved, you don't get to decide anymore. I'm vested in this, this is all happening because you chose to save me, and now I'm choosing to help keep  _you_  safe."

"Santana." Brittany tried, and then watched a dark eyebrow raise in challenge. "Quinn is not going to like this."

"Does Quinn like anything? Because you three come into the diner at least four afternoons a week, and I've never seen her do anything but glower and put an obscene amount of hot sauce on sweet potato fries, which, by the way, is disgusting. At least _you_  put it on  _regular_  fries."

"Umm." While trying to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest at the fact that Santana noticed how she ate her French fries, even before she'd saved her life ( _cool it, Britt, she noticed Quinn too_ , she'd reprimanded herself), she attempted to think of something to say, but really, there was nothing that came to her mind besides  _yelling at Brittany, telling Sam to grow up_ , and  _blowing up cacti in the desert to let off steam_ , none of which she figured Santana would like to hear.

"That's what I thought. I'm all in. Even if you say we can't kiss, or figure out what this pull is between us, I'm a part of this now, the first human member of your Alien Alliance."

"You say that like it's a club you can just join."

"I didn't join, I was initiated." Brittany caught the teasing lilt in Santana's voice, and the way her hand moved, possibly subconsciously, to her clothed stomach.

"The way you're talking about this doesn't sound like I have much of a choice."

"I can be very persuasive." Santana chanced a wink, coaxing small laugh, covered by a glare, from Brittany. "Look, I've lived in this town forever, I'm influential because of my name, and it was Hummel who drove my mom to the hospital when I was born because my dad was out of town at a pickle convention, or something. I was born knowing the ridiculous politics of this place, and the minute I grew boobs, I learned how to fly under the radar of them when I need to. I'm pretty useful."

"Fine. But if things get dangerous, I want you as far from any of this as humanly possible."

"Nice choice of words."

"Not a joke."

"So we're going to figure out what to do about Mercedes together?"

"Seems like it." Brittany sighed, butterflies erupting in her stomach both in terrified anticipation and in excitement that Santana Lopez actually wanted to be involved in this  _thing_ that made her feel like such a freak and an outcast. "Not here though. We still have to pretend to be normal, Santana, and I really need to have Sam and Quinn involved too. This effects all of us. You need to go to cheerleading, and I'll pick you up with them after, okay?"

"With Sam and Quinn?" Santana stumbled a little bit over her words, and tried not to show her anxiety about that to Brittany.

"Alien Alliance, remember?" Brittany teased just slightly, but kept her face serious. If Santana really wanted to be involved, it had to be with all three of them, not just her. Her brother and her, well, her Quinn, wouldn't really accept it any other way (if they accepted it at all).

"Right. Okay."

* * *

After two grueling hours of cheerleading practice under the tyranny of Coach Roz Washington, Santana was still a bundle of nerves as she waited for everyone to leave the locker room so she could shower without anyone looking at her body (she knew she was hot, and she always felt the glances of the other Cheerios who were wont to experiment). By the time she'd finished and threw up a pair of denim shorts that made her ass look  _fantastic_  and a top slightly longer than what she'd normally wear, careful to cover up the slowly fading mark on her skin (which, admittedly, she was strangely sad about), she had only a half hour until Brittany was supposed to be picking her up at school. Part of her thought maybe she was a complete fool for wanting to be a part of this, not because she didn't trust Brittany implicitly, but because knowing that Sam Pierce and Quinn Fabray could probably kill her with a single glance absolutely terrified her. But the stronger part knew she was safe with Brittany, knew somehow that she'd do whatever it took to protect her, even if it was from Sam and Quinn. At 5:30, she was standing outside the school, one hand clasping tightly to her phone, counting both the hours since she'd been shot and the number she had left to give Mercedes answers, while the other was stuck in her back pocket. Her heart leapt for two entirely different reasons when a silver Prius pulled up, and Brittany rolled down the window from the backseat.

"Are you ready?" She asked, and Santana offered her a hesitant smile before climbing in beside her.

"Hi." She mumbled to Brittany, then darted her eyes to the front seat where Sam was in the driver's seat and Quinn sat beside him putting on eyeliner. "Uh, hi."

"Hey." Sam offered, not sounding all that terrifying, but Quinn didn't say a word, and Santana found herself swallowing hard as she received a glare in the rear view mirror.

"Thanks for picking me up."

"As if we had a choice." Quinn muttered angrily, and Brittany slapped the back of her head rest. "Just drive, Sam."

The car ride to the destination that was unknown to Santana was awkwardly silent, with the exception of some eighties rock playing over the radio. Brittany kept offering Santana small smiles, and she latched onto them, trying to let the other girl's presence calm her in the midst of icy glares from the passenger seat and frantic steering wheel tapping from the driver's side. As they drove deep into the desert, Santana could hear her own blood rushing in her ears. Finally, they reached a vast expanse of emptiness, and she squinted her eyes, wondering if there was something she was missing.

"What, are you expecting a ship or something?" Quinn snarked. "We're just going to do this on our turf, away from the town where you reign."

"Um. Okay." Santana's voice cracked, nerves getting the best of her.

" _I'm sorry._ " Brittany mouthed to her, and Santana gave a tentative smile.

Getting out of the car, Santana uncomfortably shifted her weight between feet, and Brittany immediately stood at her side, directly across from where Sam and Quinn stood. The gesture meant more to Santana than she could comprehend, and her fingers itched to reach out and take Brittany's hand. It was yet another thing she didn't understand, physical contact (well,  _that_ kind of affectionate physical contact) wasn't really something she did, but her whole being ached for closeness with the blonde. Knowing that she couldn't do what she wanted, she instead settled for placing a hand on her hip, letting just the very tips of her fingers land where she knew the mark blazed.

"So tell me, Lopez." Quinn hissed, and Santana really, really hoped that she didn't have some sort of alien venom in her voice that could kill her on the spot. "Why are we supposed to trust you?"

"Quinn-"

"Nope, Brittany. You've had your turn, now I get mine. Fair is fair, right? You want me to trust her, I need to hear the words from her mouth."

"Because Brittany saved me." Santana lowered her eyes, unable to look at the seemingly unearthly glow that radiated from Quinn's in the waning sunlight, especially when there was more she wouldn't say. "I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt her."

"And us? I think you're forgetting that in all of this stupidity, my idiot friend, sister, whatever, gave you all the ammunition you need to take me and Sam down with three little words."

"I don't know why you hate me so much. Or why you think I hate you."

"Psht." Quinn spit, but didn't elaborate on what exactly that sound meant.

"Look, I don't know you. I don't really know  _any_  of you." She chanced a glance at Brittany, that one look saying how desperately she  _wanted_  to know her. "And maybe I act like a bitch sometimes, but I've never done anything to you, and I don't see what I'd even have to gain by revealing your secret."

"How about a one way ticket out of this cow town?" Quinn cocked an eyebrow. "That's all you want, isn't it  _Santana_? I way to escape from your boring, pathetic little life? You think you're keeping your big city dreams under wraps, wouldn't want to upset daddy dearest with the fact that you don't want to run his shitty diner when he croaks, but I know it's what you want. I'm sure people would pay big money for information about alien freaks. Could buy yourself a nice little apartment in New York and never look back."

"Do you really think I would stoop so low for  _money_?" Santana gaped.

"Like you said, you don't know me, and I don't know you. Besides what I've gathered in twenty-four hours of research."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should research a little better." Anger boiled under Santana's skin. What if Quinn had convinced _Brittany_  to think those things? She wasn't sure she could stand the taller blonde looking at her, _judging_  her like that. With fury hot, she turned back to the car, ripping the back door open and leaning in.

"You want to know you can trust her and then you tell her that you're stalking her." Brittany stomped her feet, the moment Santana was out of earshot. "Trust works both ways, Quinn."

"Oh yeah, trust. That's why her browser history showed nineteen different searches on the '47 crash, and twenty-eight on  _you_?"

"You broke into her  _house_?"

"Quinn!" Sam gasped. "How is that being careful?"

"You two are unbelievable!" She turned away from them and stalked further out into the desert, blowing a cactus to bits in the process. " _I'm_ the one who's not being careful."

"I just...I couldn't sleep." Santana said quietly, having come back with a turquoise bundle in her hands. "I needed to know more. Brittany, I swear, I just, I only know things about the crash that I've overheard in the diner, I never really thought about it before, and what I saw online, it's horrifying."

"Oh." Brittany was hurt, assuming Santana meant the rumors about mass carnage of U.S soldiers out at the site, the site not three miles from where they stood. "We aren't...I'm not."

"No,  _no_." Santana took a step closer to Brittany and put a soft hand on her arm, eliciting yet another jolt between the two of them. The sensation caused Brittany to look up, and where she once again expected to see fear and disgust, she saw this strange compassion and sadness. "People, they're afraid of what they don't know. I understand why Quinn doesn't want to trust me. What I saw, whether any of it is true of not, is that there obviously wasn't any  _alien invasion_ , there were a few against an entire army, and /people/ are the ones who should be feared for what they did. I-I'm sorry."

"For what?" Brittany's voice was hushed, intimate almost, and Sam felt like he had to look away. A part of him immediately felt a burning desire to experience what the two of them were sharing, and against all he'd learned to believe, his own connection with his sister drew him into that circle of trust.

"I don't know. Just, for being a part of a race so cruel."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You can't judge an entire people based on the reactions of a few."

"I wanted to give you this." Santana thrust the bundle into Brittany's hands. "There's a bullet hole in my dress. I want you to destroy it. I want to get the order pad for you too. I just, I swear I'll do anything I have to do to get it from Mercedes."

"What's that?" Quinn stomped back over to where the others were standing, interrupting what Brittany was going to say.

"Her uniform." Brittany didn't look up from where she stared down at the dress, her pointer finger poking through the hole as a shiver ran down her spine, thinking about how close Santana really had come to dying.

"What, now you're going to go dress up as an alien and work at the diner? Can't stay away from your girlfriend for five minutes?" Quinn rolled her eyes.

"God, you really are a huge bitch." Santana snapped, not even acting that the girl could destroy her with one glance. She'd spent less than an hour with Quinn Fabray, and she already couldn't stand the way every word that came out of her mouth was an attack. Maybe if it was just on her, she could have handled it, but the way she spoke to Brittany, this girl who  _obviously_ cared about her, it just wasn't okay in Santana's book.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I gave Brittany the uniform with the fucking bullet hole in it so it could be destroyed. I thought maybe it would help prove that I could be trusted, since if I really wanted to go to Hummel, I wouldn't  _willingly hand over the only evidence I had that something happened_ to you. But no, you take it as an opportunity to say something bitchy to Brittany. I want you to trust me, but I'll be damned if I just let you talk like that to her, or to me."

"Shit." Sam breathed to Brittany, who just nodded as she watched Santana with rapt attention, admittedly, a little turned on as the other girl stepped closer to Quinn with absolutely no fear.

"Just because  _Brittany_ decided to bring you into this, which, by the way, I'm completely against, but once again, she and Sam have no regard for  _me,_ doesn't mean I'm one of your cheerleaders and you can tell me what to do."

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I'm trying to  _help,_ and trying to show you that I can be trusted, but you're just being really aggressive for no apparent reason."

"Because it's all your fault this is happening!" Quinn erupted, raising a hand to Santana, which Brittany stepped in front of in a flash as Sam grabbed Quinn's arm.

"Stop it right now!" Brittany shouted, turning away from Quinn, once Sam had her under control. Santana was shaking a little bit, but trying very, very hard not to let it show. Once Brittany's eyes met hers, she visibly relaxed, and exhaled sharply.

For a few moments, no one moved. Sam held Quinn tightly by the arm, but even  _her_ features had softened, realizing what she'd done. She had no intention of using her  _powers_ against Santana, she just raised her hand in basic  _human_  instinct, ironically, to slap someone she felt threatened by. Of course, as soon as she'd done it, she recognized what it would have been perceived as not only by Santana, but by Brittany and Sam as well, and she realized the gravity of her mistake. Cautiously, she watched Brittany, who was staring at Santana with eyes full of concern, and Santana just shook her head nearly imperceptibly, a gesture that Quinn couldn't quite decipher the meaning of.

"I-" Quinn started.

"No." Brittany nearly growled. "You crossed a line. What the hell is  _wrong_  with you? Sam, get her away from us. Right now."

Without force, Quinn followed Sam away from the other two girls, and she looked back over her shoulder, meeting Brittany's angry eyes as one of the taller blonde's hands tentatively touched Santana's forearm.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She murmured, and Santana kept her eyes cast down to the sand below her feet.

"It's not your fault."

"It is though. She's angry with me all of the time, and you're just one more person she can take that out on."

"I shouldn't have antagonized her. I just don't like how she talks to you, and..." Santana trailed off, shaking her head.

"I understand if you changed your mind about being a part of this."

"No!" Santana shouted, surprised by her own outburst. "I want to. I do. I didn't realize what I was getting myself into with Quinn, but I trust you to keep me safe. And Sam too. I've never seen anyone move as fast as you both did."

Neither said anything for a long while. When Brittany finally took her eyes of off Santana, she looked out to where Sam and Quinn were, about a hundred yards out in the desert. Quinn's hands were balled into fists at her sides, and Sam was kicking the the ground. Their words were unclear, but it was obvious that Sam was yelling, and Brittany knew she had never seen Quinn look so  _defeated_ , like almost attacking Santana had caused some type of remorse to hit her. When Sam looked over at Brittany, she nodded at him, and he finished whatever he was saying and began walking back towards them. Quinn followed several feet behind him, never looking up from the string on her shirt that she worried between her fingers.

"Are you okay, Santana?" Sam asked, genuine concern evident on his face putting Santana further at ease.

"Yeah." She choked out, looking in Quinn's direction. "I'm good."

"Are you in control of yourself, Quinn?" Venom colored Brittany's words.

"I wasn't going to  _do_  anything to her. I was just angry, and I really don't like her."

"The feeling's mutual, Fabitch. But only one of us can explode the other with a nose twitch."

"Apparently, she was just going to slap you." Sam explained, and Santana quirked an eyebrow in borderline disbelief.

"I'm sorry." Quinn muttered, and both Brittany and Sam gasped, having never heard those words pass through her lips. "Whatever, I'm not going to make out with her, okay? You're not really my type, Lopez, and Brittany would probably explode  _me_ if I did anyway."

"Can we maybe stop talking about exploding now?" Santana shivered, but couldn't help feeling a little better that Quinn seemed to be  _joking_  with her or something. "Listen, I still stand by what I said that you can trust me."

"I kind of figured that when you didn't run away screaming." Quinn sniped, the brief softness gone from her voice.

"Well, two out of three of you protecting me seemed like decent odds."

"This doesn't mean we're going to be friends. This is a strategical alliance, exclusively."

"As head cheerleader, I'm well aware of those. And trust me, I wouldn't be friends with you if you were the last alien on earth." Santana snorted.

"Good. Glad we're on the same page then." Quinn rolled her eyes.

Brittany and Sam watched in utter shock at the exchange between Quinn and Santana. The lack of bite in Quinn's words startled them, and truth me told, given the events of the previous fifteen minutes, even  _Brittany_ was shocked that Santana wasn't halfway to the police station to tell her story. Again Brittany was gripped by that invisible tug to the brunette, and couldn't help but think that if Santana truly  _did f_ eel the same thing, that she  _couldn_ _'_ _t_  reveal Brittany's truth, even if she'd wanted to.

"So now that we've got _that_ out of the way, I think we should start with the reason we're all here right now." Sam cleared his throat before speaking it out loud again. "Mercedes."

"You all know my vote on that." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"This isn't going to be a vote, it's going to be a discussion. Since you're the one watching everyone, why don't you tell us what you've seen." Brittany suggested, still regarding Quinn strangely.

"Hummel has been at the diner twice, trying to get _her_  father to install security cameras and inspecting the walls. He's looking for the non-existent bullet hole and he's not going to let this go. Now that we have the dress, the only evidence that there was an actual shooting is that order pad, I say we steal it."

"Even if we do, Mercedes still knows we were there and that Santana lied. That will raise just as many red flags. He probably already figures if it was one of us anyway, we see him every time we're in the diner, and we just so happen not to be there that one day? He just needs someone to confirm that, and then his eyes will be on us even more than they've been for years." Sam sighed.

"So you're in favor of telling her the truth?" Brittany asked, surprised by Sam's choice. Although she'd told Santana she was against it, the truth was, she had pretty much known that was going to be the outcome. Of course, she'd expected it to be more of a challenge, and she'd expected that  _she_  would have had to be the one to suggest it after an excessive amount of discussion, not Sam almost immediately after they began.

"No fucking way. The two of you need to stop thinking with your dicks." Santana's eyes went wide at Quinn's words, and couldn't help but let her eyes flicker down to the crotch of Brittany's jeans. "Or metaphorical in Brittany's case. What, are we going to let in everyone either of you ever have a crush on? This will end  _so_  well."

"It has nothing to do with that." Sam protested, blush coloring both his and Brittany's faces as a small smirk appeared on Santana's lips. She  _knew_  Sam had a thing for Mercedes, _and_  she sort of loved hearing it confirmed that Brittany had a crush on her. "I think it's the best solution. Unless you have a better idea. One that doesn't involve exploding."

"I never tried to explode anyone, is this going to be the thing now, forever? Brittany heals humans, Quinn tries to kill them? Pretty fucking typical."

"Oh, stop acting like such a victim all the time. Now isn't the time for you to start dealing with your Brittany issues."

"Um-" Santana cleared her throat, feeling a sense of familiarity in the  _human-ness_  of what was going on around her. "I'm obviously in favor of telling Mercedes. I know her. She's the most loyal person I've ever met. She's a much better friend than I am, and the only reason this is even happening is because she's terrified that something happened to me and she can't understand it. I think she'd be the best ally we could have."

" _We_." Quinn scoffed. "Well, obviously it _is_ a vote, and once again, I'm outnumbered, since we know Brittany is going to vote with you two."

" _Brittany_  has a mouth and a brain of her own." Brittany pulled her lip between her teeth, trying to contain her frustration. "And it's not a vote, it's just realistic, we don't have another option. Letting her go to Hummel isn't a choice. I would have heard you out if you'd given us some other way, Quinn."

"Whatever. I don't know why you even had me come out here."

"Because nothing has been decided. I wasn't even the one to suggest it."

"Only a matter of time."

"Give us another option. You said so yourself, Hummel isn't giving this up. If Mercedes is all too willing to talk to him, that does nothing but make it easier." Sam reasoned.

"You're going to do what you want anyway. I hope you have a backup plan when she loses her shit. This is not going to end well, and I swear to you, Brittany, if you start any of your glitter and rainbows positivity shit right now,  _I'm_  going to lose mine." Quinn turned away from them again, Santana's uniform still in her hands. She made it about thirty feet away from the others before they watched the dress burst into flames on the desert floor.

"She'll get over it." Sam told Santana, who's mouth had dropped open watching the haste in Quinn's movements. "She'll realize that there was nothing else we could do."

"I'm sorry." Santana whispered to Sam, but didn't take her eyes off of Brittany, something pulling at her heart as she witnessed the conflict in blue eyes. "I'm really sorry."

"You didn't ask to get shot." He shrugged. "Maybe this means something good can come from it for my sister."

"Sam." Brittany snapped, before Santana had a change to respond to those pregnant words. "Let's just figure out how we're going to do this, okay?"

"I think-" Santana started, and waited for the encouraging nod that Brittany gave her. "I think our best bet is for me to tell her, and for Sam to be there."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because you guys aren't the only ones who think with your dicks, metaphorical or otherwise." She snickered. "Also, if I tell her on my own with no...um, proof, she's going to think that I'm either totally fucking with her, or I've lost my mind completely. Neither of those outcomes are really going to work, are they?"

At some time during the discussion of plans for the next eighteen hours, Quinn wandered back over and kept on a disinterested scowl. Although Brittany put on a good game face, internally, she was feeling pretty distraught. Implicitly, she trusted Santana, and she knew that if she was telling them that Mercedes would be a good ally for them, then she believed it, but she couldn't help feel a nagging sense of dread. Mostly, she attributed it to Quinn, who's reactions were never the most rational, and Brittany typically didn't fight them, because it was easier that way. Brittany knew that the scowls and scoffs she directed at Santana were really meant for someone else, for  _he_ r. Even the almost slap, or almost explosion, whatever that actually was, wasn't entirely meant for the dark haired girl. Quinn saw Brittany's face in the diner, Brittany knew that, she knew that in that moment it was obvious the reaction anything happening to Santana elicited a violent reaction from Brittany. Brittany knew that Quinn cared about her, even if she had a terrible way of showing it, and while she believed the other blonde wouldn't  _hurt_  Santana, there was no question in Brittany's mind that she'd use that fact to her advantage, especially while she was angry about the perception she had of her opinion being invalidated.

"Are you done?" Quinn snapped the moment she walked back over to the others. "I have shit to do."

"Quinn-"

"Don't, Brittany. Just don't."

"Fine." Brittany slumped, and she felt the faintest touch of Santana's fingertips on her lower back. "We're done. Sam and Santana are going to talk to Mercedes-"

"I actually don't care, but thanks for the update."

Huffing the entire way back to the car, Quinn got in the back seat, and Sam followed her, leaving Brittany to take the driver's seat and Santana to climb in next to her. No one said anything as they made the twenty minutes back into town, and Santana jiggled her leg nervously in the passenger seat. Her imagination began to run away with her as a deep sense of concern settled over her entire being. Flipping down the sun visor, she peered at Quinn in the makeup mirror there, the girl's icy stare never leaving the back of her head. If Santana was wrong, if telling Mercedes led to bad results, she wasn't sure anyone would be able to stop Quinn from doing  _something_ to her. Pushing the visor back up quickly to shut out the image of hazel eyes, Santana inhaled sharply, and looked over at Brittany, who's blue eyes focuses intently on the road ahead of them. Brittany didn't need to look at Santana to see the worry etched on her face, and somehow, like they'd been doing it for years on end, the blonde's hand moved without thought from the center console until her fingers were grazing just above Santana's knee.

At the contact, Santana had to contain a shudder, not wanting to startle Brittany from the contact that felt so natural, and so soothing all at once. After the initial moment of surprise, she felt her breathing slow, and her leg pressed up just slightly, letting the pads of Brittany's fingers press against her bare leg. Santana wasn't sure what was happening, or what would come next in their race against the clock, and their fight (be it real or perceived) against Sheriff Hummel, but in that moment, she was sure of one thing. She was sure that no matter how Brittany protested, no matter how Quinn complained, and no matter  _what_ came next in the larger picture, there was no way either of them would ever be able to stay away from one another, and something about that was more contenting than Santana thought she could believe.

Brittany didn't move her hand, not for the entire duration of the trip. She ignored the eyes burning into the back of her head, and she ignored the thought of Sam playfully badgering her about it later, she just absently let her fingers brush Santana's thigh, letting her instinct to reassure the other girl override all else. When they pulled up outside of the diner to drop Santana off, it was Sam who gasped first, seeing through the glass that Hummel stood with one hip resting against the counter, taking to Santana's father, while Mercedes hurriedly filled up his thermos with coffee. Santana squirms in her seat at the vision of the sheriff, back again, on her home turf, talking to the people she cared about with so much still up in the air.

"Well." She breathes, chills running down her spine for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. "I guess it's now or never. Plan's changed, looks like we're all going to be there for this one. Pull the car onto Sycamore and wait for me there. Mercedes' shift ends in five minutes, I'm going in to get her."

Before Quinn could protest (because of course it would be Quinn), Santana unbuckled herself and climbed out of the car. Combing her fingers through her hair and smoothing the fabric of her shirt, she took a final deep breath before walking through the double doors of the diner, hips swaying and flirty smile on her face, needing every source of disarmament in her possession before she once again came face to face with Hummel.


	4. Not So Black and White

Brittany hadn't realized that she'd been holding her breath, frozen to the world, as she watched Santana walk into the eye of the storm. It was the clearing of Sam's throat and the sympathetic nudge of her shoulder that reminded Brittany that idling the car there was doing absolutely nothing to help, and with one final glance to where Santana stood, arms crossed across her body, nervous, guarding herself, Brittany lifted her foot from the brake and slowly rounded the next corner.

Inside the diner, Santana put on her best front, appearing non-plussed by the presence of the exact person she was trying to avoid, and pretending she actually cared about the lemonade that flowed from the tap she'd pressed on the fountain, busying her hands before approaching Hummel and her father. Mercedes intentionally turned her back and took off toward the old couple sitting in the front, leaving Santana alone with the two men without so much as a wave.

"Hi Papí, hi Sheriff Hummel." She twisted the paper from her straw and slowly sipped her drink.

"Hey  _mija._ Practice run late?"

"No." Santana shook her head. Hummel's son, Kurt, was one of her Cheerios, and she knew that a lie like that would be easily discovered. "Just a lot of homework this semester. I actually just came to see if 'Cedes would head over to the library with me. She's much better at this Transcendentalism stuff than I am."

"Mercedes!" Javier called over his shoulder, and the girl sashayed over to him, crossing her arms across her chest and raising at eyebrow at Santana. "Don't worry about your side work, Santana could use some homework help."

"I've got plans tonight." Mercedes answered cooly, avoiding the pleading gaze of her best friend.

"Please, Mercedes? I really need you to explain some of the English stuff to me, and I figured I could help you with that, um,  _blood lab_ for bio." Santana sputtered out, hoping Mercedes wouldn't shoot her down again.

"Oh." She slowly looked into Santana's eyes, just as warm relief flooded them. "Fine, glad you want to work on it before the  _due date_. Just give me five minutes and we'll go."

"Thank you." Santana exhaled slowly, careful not to draw any attention to herself.

"So, as I was saying, Javier." Hummel began speaking again, one eye never leaving Santana. "Your daughter could have been hurt, your business could have been robbed, you just don't know. You don't take credit cards, you don't have cameras, there's pretty much no record of anyone who comes and goes from this place. Seems unwise and unsafe to me."

"Burt, my family has owned this diner for how many years? In all those years, one gun has gone off. No one was hurt, nothing was taken, I don't see why I'd spend thousands upon thousands of dollars on equipment. The odds of something like that happening again are right up there with one of those green aliens on my sign coming to life and walking through that door."

It took everything in Santana's power not to spit the lemonade out in shock, and the quick swallow she took caused the liquid to go down the wrong way and for her to start gasping for breath. Quickly, her father patted her on the back, and she took in air, dabbing her chin with a napkin and hoping that the Sheriff wasn't going to read into her weird episode.

"Santanita,  _dios mio_. Are you alright?"

"I'm good." Santana waved off his concern, but felt her already burning cheeks grow hotter under Hummel's gaze. "I just really don't like hearing about the gun going off. It's all anyone has been talking about in school too, and it sort of freaks me out a little."

"You had quite the close call there, I can understand why that would upset you." Hummel soothed, and she tried not to glower at the man who posed such a real threat to Brittany (and to the others, but all Santana could hear in her head was  _Brittany, Brittany, Brittany_ ). She needed to keep her cool, she needed to behave like someone who was present for a gunshot that harmed no one, not someone who'd actually  _been_  shot and saved by the sheriff's person of interest. "I know it's hard for you, Miss Lopez. I still get a little startled by the sound if a gun, and I've been carrying one for twenty-five years. Of course, we're all glad no one got hurt, but even so, I think all of Roswell would feel a little safer knowing what happened to the men who were in here that day."

"I certainly would, Sheriff." She put on her best sickly-sweet affectations and tried  _not_ to roll her eyes at herself.

"Excellent. Since you agree, I'd like to talk to you some more, and Ms. Jones too, since you were the only staff out on the floor that day. Is that alright with you, Javier?"

"It's up to Santana, Burt." Javier looked at his daughter, and Santana sat, conflicted. This wasn't just going to go away. It was small town America where nothing happened, and a stray bullet was the most interesting thing in years, and that would have been fine, Santana would have talked until she was blue in the face about burly old men with a gun. But it  _wasn't_ a stray bullet, and the sheriff was too paranoid for his own good. She could already guarantee that the discussion would center around someone else, someone who it  _couldn't_  center around, not if Santana had anything to do with it. "You have my permission, sweetheart. I know I'd sleep a little better at night knowing..."

"Papí, remember nothing happened." Santana swallowed, the back of her throat still burning from the lemonade. She knew it wasn't going to easy, but she also knew the best shot of Hummel leaving Brittany and the others alone would be for her to convince Hummel, even more than last time, that it was a stranger who asked if she was alright, that it was just ketchup, that there was no such thing as aliens. And all she could  _really_  do was pray that Mercedes would trust her again, and that she'd back her up. "I'll come tomorrow, Sheriff, if that's alright. But I do think I've told you all I know."

"You can never comb over a case too finely." Burt pinched the brim of his hat and stood, nodding to both Lopezes. "I'll see you tomorrow around four, Miss Lopez?"

"Yes, sir." Santana put her fake smile back on, and kept her eyes trained on the counter in front of her, fighting the urge to let her eyes follow the man out the door, fighting the urge to make sure he wasn't headed to where Brittany ( _and the others_ , she kept reminding herself) were waiting.

Santana could barely focus on her father, who had shifted the conversation to school, cheerleading,  _normal_. She squirmed in her seat, casting the occasional glance toward the door to the back room, questioning what was taking Mercedes so damn long to change her clothes, though she had a sneaking suspicion that she was  _intentionally_  making Santana wait, giving her a taste of her own medicine. When she finally emerged, a half scowl on her face and a backpack slung over her shoulder, Santana tossed her empty glass in a bus bucket, kissed her father goodbye and walked out of the diner, Mercedes following wordlessly.

"The library's the other way." Mercedes finally spoke, watching Santana walk the opposite direction and throw cautious glances over both shoulders.

"Yeah. I know. I also read  _Walden_  two years ago. Did you really think I needed your help?"

"I don't know what to think about you anymore."

"I know. And I'm sorry." Santana spoke softly, slowing down so Mercedes could catch up with her. "Trust me, 'Ce, I'm taking you to someone who's going to help me explain everything. It's totally fucked up, and you're probably not going to believe any of it. I mean,  _I_ barely did, and I have more reason to than you do."

"Let's just get there already." Mercedes tried not to let Santana's words soften her anger, not until she knew it wasn't a game anymore, not until she knew she wasn't being kept in the dark about something dangerous enough to spill her best friend's blood.

They rounded the corner onto Sycamore, and Santana scanned the cars parked there, until her eyes settled on the silver Prius that idled on the curb fifty feet ahead. Looking through the back windshield, Santana squinted her eyes, confused as to why there were only two blondes inside. Slowly, she approached the car, and Mercedes balked the moment she figured out who they were meeting.

"Oh hell no, Santana. I thought you and I were having a conversation, I didn't know you were going to team against me with the Pierces. We don't even  _know_ them."

"You wish you knew one of them." Santana tried to tease, glancing at Sam and wiggling her eyebrows, but Mercedes wouldn't take the bait. "Listen, just get in the car and you'll understand why I needed them for this."

"I hope so. Especially since you just set the execution date with Hummel tomorrow."

"There won't be an  _execution_." She crossed her arms harshly across her chest. "You promised that if I let you in, you wouldn't tell him about the blood."

"I still don't like this."

"I know." Santana pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and Mercedes couldn't resist the desperate, pleading look in her best friend's eyes.

"Fine. But if this is about drugs, or some weird all-blonde mafia that you somehow became a lackey for, I'm out."

"Fair enough."

As Santana opened the door to the back driver's side, Mercedes followed suit on the passenger side. Although she wouldn't admit it to anyone, the moment she was back in Brittany's presence, the coil of tension that had been winding tighter and tighter since she'd seen Sheriff Hummel in the diner seemed to loosen. It didn't quite unwind, but somehow, just a glimpse of Brittany's small smile in the rearview mirror brought her back from the snapping point. She wasn't sure where Quinn had gone (although she suspected that Brittany and Sam, and probably even Quinn herself, were aware that her intimidating presence could cause Mercedes to run screaming), but something about being in that car, merging her  _normal_ world with this new, previously unknown reality just felt  _right._

"Um, so, I know we haven't really met, or whatever." Sam started awkwardly, snapping both Brittany and Santana out of their weird eye contact via mirror. "But we know each other's names and stuff, since we go to school together, and we're at the diner all the time, because Br-"

"Sam, stop talking." Brittany cut him off gently, her cheeks coloring simply because she  _knew_ Sam was going to say something  _again_ about her borderline stalker behavior, and she figured that _probably_ wasn't the best approach to getting Santana's confidante on board with their little secret. "Hi Mercedes. Thanks for meeting us."

"Wasn't exactly a choice. Where are we going?"

"Our house, if that's alright?"

"Yeah. That's, uh, fine I guess." Mercedes glanced over at Santana, who nodded her gratitude. "I've never seen you two without your sidekick."

"Quinn had some stuff to do." Brittany met Santana's eyes in the mirror again, confirming her suspicions with a single glance.

The rest of the five minute ride to the Pierce's house was silent. Nervously, Santana tried to gauge Mercedes' reaction, but the other girl sat largely stoic and expectant, her earlier irritation failing to fade away. When they finally reached the house, it seemed like no one could get out of the car fast enough, eager to quell the rapidly growing tension. While Sam unlocked the door, both Santana and Brittany watched Mercedes cautiously take in her surroundings, a newfound sense of fear evident in her features. At that, Brittany squirmed awkwardly, realizing that while  _Santana_ seemed to lack any and all rational fear when it came to her, that wasn't to say that  _Mercedes_ would be the same way, and that it was entirely possible that she'd be able to instill said fear, said  _logical_ fear into her friend.

"Ma? Dad?" Sam called out, even though the lack of cars in the driveway would lead them all to presume that no one was home. "Alright, looks like it's just us. Mercedes, can I get you a drink, or a snack or something?"

"I'm good. Let's just bite the bullet already." She said quietly, and Santana cringed slightly at the expression. She really,  _really_ wished that everything would  _stop_ reminding her of what it felt like to have the life begin to drain out of her before Brittany... "Santana, I want  _you_ to tell me what happened. No cop outs, no letting someone else tell the truth."

"That's what I planned." She fought the urge to snap at Mercedes, because  _seriously_ it felt like everyone was attacking her, everyone but Brittany, and, she guessed, Sam. "Just let me finish before you freak out, okay? Because I had a hard time believing it too."

"Yeah. Fine." Mercedes sank down on the couch, never taking her eyes off of Santana. Wringing her hands, Santana shot one last glance at Brittany, who nodded encouragingly while Sam took a seat in the chair opposite Mercedes.

"Okay. I'm just going to go ahead and say it." She sucked in a deep breath, hoping,  _praying_ that doing this would keep Brittany ( _and Sam, and Quinn,_ she added hastily) safe. "When the gun went off, I was shot in the stomach. That's where the blood came from."

"You were  _shot_?" Mercedes snipped in disbelief, and made to stand up.

"Please 'Ce, just let me talk, okay? I can't do this if I've gotta fight against you." Santana pleaded, and Mercedes tightened her jaw before sinking back against the cushions. "The force of the bullet knocked me to the ground, and I was lying there, dying, until I  _wasn't_ anymore. Until all the nothingness was replaced with  _Brittany_. With her eyes, and her voice, and just, her presence."

Santana swallowed quickly, realizing, one, that there were tears in her eyes, and two, that the feeling she'd just described sounded tragically, beautifully romantic. She could feel Brittany's eyes on her, and she couldn't chance a look in her direction, because she swore that she'd forget her entire purpose for recounting the story and throw herself into the blonde's strong arms, beg her to hold her and kiss her and  _be_ with her, even though Brittany had said that they  _couldn_ _'_ _t_. Shaking her head to clear all the ridiculousness, Santana refocused on Mercedes and the look on her face, the  _stop bullshitting me_ face that Santana herself had perfected over the years.

"So there wasn't pain any longer, there wasn't a  _bullet in my body_ , and Brittany was gone faster than I could even process her being there. Part of me thought I'd gone into shock and imagined it all, but when I looked at my stomach, there was this." Santana lifted her shirt and revealed the mark that had nearly faded into the slightest shimmer, but that still burned for Santana the same way it had the instant it had been left there, and probably would for the entirety of her life. "Brittany Pierce saved my life, Mercedes. That's why I'm acting weird, that's why I lied to Hummel, and that's why more than ever in my life, I  _need_ you to be on my side. Please."

"How?" Mercedes single word question was barely a breath, but the three other people in the room heard it, and Santana finally looked to Brittany again, giving her the opportunity to reveal her own truth.

"I'm not human." Brittany spoke equally as soft, and Santana opened and closed her fist, fighting her desire to take Brittany's hand in hers, to let her know that in her eyes, there was nothing for her to be ashamed of.

"Neither of us are." Sam added, louder than his sister. "I know it sounds like a prank, Mercedes, but it's not, we were left out in the desert in 1947, in incubator pods, and we didn't come out until the night Hummel found us out there. Basically, we are what's left of the Roswell aliens."

"You've gotta be kidding me right now." Mercedes finally pushed herself up and glared angrily at Santana, clenching her fists at her sides and standing on her toes so she was eye level with the other girl. "I thought you were gonna be honest with me, and you pull this shit? The Roswell aliens?  _Really?_ I can't even give you credit for this, because it's the least creative lie I've  _ever_ heard. Human looking aliens who hang out in diners and miraculously heal the help? Great story. I might not be able to get to the bottom of whatever it is you got yourself into, but I know who  _can._ You blew your shot, we're done here."

"I'm not lying, I-"

"Save it." Mercedes put her hand up and turned away quickly, but Sam was quicker, stepping between her and the door.

"Let us show you, please." Sam begged as he watched his sister and Santana both go into a silent panic. "If you don't believe us after, you can tell whoever you want and we won't stop you."

Brittany was shocked at Sam's offer. If Mercedes didn't believe them, they were totally screwed, more screwed than they already were, and she silently thanked whatever higher power was out there that Quinn wasn't there. If she was, Brittany was pretty sure that Mercedes' proof that aliens existed would involve witnessing Quinn telepathically tearing Sam limb from limb, and she shivered at the notion of that, even if it  _was_ a gross exaggeration. Surprisingly, Mercedes took two steps back, and looked to Santana and Brittany. Without missing a beat, Brittany placed a hand on the small of Santana's back, and while Santana immediately recognized the first purpose, that strange pull to comfort her, the second wasn't clear to her until Mercedes' eyes widened comically, and Santana looked down to the shirt that had formerly been white, and suddenly took on a bright red hue.

"What did you...? How did you...?" Mercedes sputtered, backing toward the door for an entirely different reason. "Holy shit. I...I have to go."

"Mercedes-"

"What kind of fucked up dream is this?" She began frantically pinching herself to no avail. "You weren't lying, and that's so much more messed up than if you were."

"Please don't say anything." Brittany's voice came out meek and uncertain, and it was Santana's turn to comfort her, resting her left hand on Brittany's forearm. "We're not going to hurt you."

"That's what they always say in the movies before they  _do._ Santana, you're coming with me, I'm not leaving you here to be prodded, probed, and possibly abducted." Mercedes voice was high and squeaky, and not even Sam could make a joke about Brittany probing Santana.

"They're not going to hurt us." Santana repeated Brittany's sentiment, turning her head to look into Brittany's blue eyes, another silent promise that she truly believed that. "She  _saved_ me."

"You are  _not_ thinking clearly. I can't let you stay here, I'm not letting your dumb ass put both of us in danger."

"Come outside with me and let's talk, just me and you." Santana begged, squeezing Brittany's arm and trying to tell her that she  _would_ make it right. "Please. I know I've asked a lot from you, but you've been my best friend for my entire life. I told you the truth, just  _please_ trust me, for five more minutes."

"I don't even know if it's really you in there."

"'Cedes, it's not a sci-fi movie. I'll prove to you that it's me, however you want. We were both born at Lovelace Hospital, our birthdays are twenty-three days apart, your mom always teases mine that she got pregnant so I'd have an automatic friend, my first word was ' _Ce_ , I told you I liked girls when I was twelve, and you told me you didn't care if I liked girls, or boys, or aliens, you'd love me anyway." Santana's face flushed with the realization that in spouting off facts about their friendship, she'd actually sounded like she was challenging Mercedes to keep a promise she'd made so many years earlier, and that whether or not a certain alien girl would allow it, she definitely  _did_ like one, and she could  _feel_ said girl's eyes on her.

"Little did I know..." Mercedes muttered, but gave a curt nod to Santana, affirming that they could talk,  _alone_.

It was agony for Brittany, both watching Santana struggle with the conflict, and with her own fear about what any of it would mean for her. She wouldn't change it, she  _knew_ that, she'd never go back, she'd never let that beautiful, perfect girl die, but she was so afraid of Hummel discovering her true identity, of taking her away (and Sam, and Quinn, she'd put them in such grave danger), of falling victim to those bone chilling experiments that she'd only read about in supposed  _first hand_ accounts. But even more (and she was ashamed of herself for even thinking that it was more important) she was afraid of Santana looking at her in the way Mercedes did, like she was a freak, a  _monster,_ someone who would hurt her,  _kill_ her, when all she really wanted (as much as she'd try to bury her feelings) was to protect her, to  _love_ her even, if somehow that ever proved possible. Their eyes met briefly as Santana turned the doorknob, and she could  _feel_ the promises there, the words unnecessary to tell Brittany that the other girl would do whatever it took to protect her too. As the door closed with Santana and Mercedes on the other side, Brittany released a shuttering breath, the prick of unshed tears stinging behind her eyes, and Sam was quick to engulf her in a strong embrace.

On the other side of the Pierces' front door, Santana sat on the top step, hopefully patting the spot next to her before Mercedes reluctantly sat. Their friendship had always been so easy, they'd bickered, like all girls do, but in such a short period of time, a gigantic rift at formed, and both for the sake of her their relationship, and for the sake of Brittany (Santana couldn't believe that the tie she felt toward the blonde somehow felt infinitely more important than a bond that had been present for her entire life), Santana  _needed_ to fill it in, needed to make things right, no matter what it took.

"So you believe that it's me?"

"I don't even know what I believe anymore. You're just-you're totally fine about the fact that there are two  _aliens_ hanging around town like it's no big deal?"

"Three, actually." Santana confessed, figuring it was better to just get the whole truth out all at once,

"Quinn." Mercedes took a deep breath, knowing without question who the third was.

"Yeah. I was totally freaked out too, Mercedes. I mean, we spend half of our afternoons making fun of the tourists who actually think aliens are  _real_ , and it turns out we've known some for years. But Brittany...she didn't have to save me, do you know what she put at risk to do that? I read some scary shit online, and the things they would do to her, to all of them, if they knew..." Santana shivered, even in the hot sun. "She put all of their lives at risk for  _me._ How could I be afraid of her?"

"I don't know, Santana." She lowered her head to her hands and sighed, exhausted, defeated, and oh so confused. "I really don't even know what to say."

"I was really pissed at first too." Santana began, desperately trying to find some common ground for them. "I yelled, I demanded answers, I thought she was fucking with me. I made the choice to be a part of this, and it's still your choice too."

"It's  _not_ really though. They know I know, you're on their side, they have no reason to kill you. If I walk away now, who's to say I'll wake up tomorrow?"

"It's not like that. They're scared, this is their entire life on the line, you know? You know what happened to Grant Hummel, and even if he's never come out and said it, you know the sheriff is looking for a way to validate everything his father was called crazy for. Brittany, Sam, Quinn, they'd all just be collateral damage."

"I thought the police were supposed to be the good guys."

"I thought a lot of things 'Cedes, but I don't think good and evil are so black and white anymore. It was the  _government_  who did what they did in 1947, and they probably thought they were doing the right thing too. I don't know what the  _aliens_ were like out in the desert, but if they were anything like Brittany..."

"You hardly  _know_ Brittany." Mercedes snapped, her emotions bubbling over again. "I just don't get it."

"Neither do I, I can't explain how I feel, okay?"

"No. It's not okay. I'm supposed to trust our  _lives_ to your unexplainable feeling? Tell me how that makes sense."

" _Nothing_ makes sense anymore! Why should this? Please. I'm not asking you to do anything, I'm not even asking you to be a part of anything after tomorrow, I'm just asking you to keep your mouth _shut_ and back up my story."

"Oh, is that  _all?_ God, Santana, you're acting like this is the same as me telling your father that your practice ran late when you skip a shift at the diner, not hiding the fact that there are three aliens who may or may not kill us."

"They're not going to  _kill_ us." Santana clenched her jaw, beyond annoyed that she couldn't just  _make_ Mercedes feel what she was feeling. "Why can't you just trust me?"

"Why couldn't  _you_ just trust  _me?_ It works both ways."

"It's not the same thing. And look, now I did trust you-"

"Only because I had something you wanted."

"No! That's not true. You think it wasn't killing me not to be able to talk to you about this? We tell each other  _everything_ , and then the biggest thing that's  _ever_ happened to me went down, and I couldn't tell you. Do you think you mean nothing to me? Maybe I'm selfish for wanting you to be a part of this, but I'm  _not_ selfish asking you to protect their secret."

There was silence as Santana and Mercedes stared at each other, clearly at an impasse. Rationally (if rationality even existed anymore), Santana understood her friend, and if she didn't have that strange out of body, near death experience, if she didn't feel the emotions she couldn't explain, the tug on her very soul that just  _thinking_ of Brittany caused, maybe her reaction would be similar. But that wasn't the case, she  _had_ experienced those things, she  _was_ still experiencing them, honestly, and for that reason, the disconnect between her and the one person who'd always understood her, who'd always been on her side, was very real. Mercedes saw the desperation that colored dark brown eyes, and so,  _so_ badly she wanted to immediately agree to Santana's request, but the gravity of the situation, the unbridled terror she felt when she thought about all she "knew" (although she recognized that referencing  _Alien, Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ and  _The Thing_ held about as much value as referencing  _Finding Nemo_ when discussing the habits of fish) held her back. It wasn't a decision she could make so quickly, even if Santana had.

"I need time." Mercedes finally spoke, after close to a full five minutes where the only sound was the hum of the lawn sprinklers.

"I guess it's my turn to wait then." Santana barely whispered, regretting her confidence that Mercedes wouldn't betray them, regretting that she may have put Brittany ( _and the others_ ) in even more danger.

"You know that I love you, Santana." They never spoke those words to each other, it was just implied, but as Mercedes felt her lifelong friendship begin to splinter right before her eyes, she felt the need for a verbal reminder. "But there's a lot at stake here."

"Yeah." Santana cast her eyes over to the front window, where she could see Brittany pacing the floor, and Sam sitting with his head in his hands. "There is."

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah." She repeated, the thought of their four o'clock meeting with Sheriff Hummel causing her heart to begin racing, Mercedes earlier words  _you just set the execution date_ echoing in her ears.

Santana watched as Mercedes stood up and walked down the driveway, tilting her head over her shoulder to look back just once before she reached the street, her own house only a few blocks away. She wanted to chase her, to beat her down if that's what it took to get her to just understand, but she didn't, she just watched her go, completely powerless. Burying her face in her hands, Santana let ice cold panic take over her, even if she knew that it would do absolutely no good. It was a hand between her shoulder blades that broke her from racing thoughts, and when she looked up with tear filed eyes, tears that came from blind rage, at Mercedes yes, but mostly at herself for believing she was doing the right thing, the bright blue ones staring back at her made her feel even worse.

"Are you okay?" Brittany asked softly, knowing that Santana wasn't, knowing that  _none of them_ were, but not really knowing what else to say.

"I really thought it was right, I thought she'd be on our side. I fucked this up so bad."

Brittany held her breath, which only caused her already nervous pulse to spike. She hadn't heard the conversation, didn't know what transpired, but if it had been good, Mercedes would have come back inside, and Santana wouldn't be sitting on the porch on the verge of tears. Realizing that telling Mercedes hadn't solved anything made her stomach churn. Was she living her last twenty-four hours of freedom? Should she, Sam and Quinn pack their things and run? Should she turn herself in, since it had been her choice, after all, and hope that would be enough, hope that Hummel would leave the others alone?

"So she's turning me in?"

"Yes. No. I don't know, she says she needs time."

"Oh." Brittany felt her heart rate slow, but not by much. It wasn't over, not yet. "I'm going to talk to her."

"What? Brittany, if I couldn't convince her..." Santana started, but then their eyes locked again, and as she looked into Brittany's, she felt like the blonde could convince anyone of anything.

"I'm going, Santana." Brittany told her firmly. "I know that you guys have been friends forever, and she should trust you, but think about if the roles were reversed. You'd be terrified, and I think the best way to handle this now is for me to be the one to let her see that I'm not what she thinks."

"I hope you're right. Quinn is going to kill me in my sleep tonight if you're not." She groaned, and then watched Brittany blanch at Santana expressing the exact fear that they were trying to talk Mercedes out of. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I didn't actually mean that. That was a really stupid thing to say."

"It's fine." Brittany waved her off with a sigh. "No one is hurting anyone, okay?"

"Yeah. You should go now though, if you're going to go. Her parents usually get home by seven."

"Okay, yeah." She inhaled sharply. "Sam can drive you home, if you want."

"I'd rather wait here, if that's okay. I just, I don't know." Santana suddenly felt awkward, and Brittany gave into the urge to take the other girl's hand in her own. Yeah, her world might be about to come crashing down around her, but for some inexplicable reason, watching Santana upset, watching her blame herself for something they really had no other option but to try, felt like an equally catastrophic event. "If it doesn't work, I'll figure something out. I'll find a way to steal the order pad, or I'll-"

"Hey,  _we_ will figure it out, alien alliance, right?" Brittany tried to lighten the mood, but her throat felt tight.

"Yeah." Santana choked a laugh, and when Brittany gave her hand a squeeze, then stood up, she felt like crying for the second time in under a half hour, as she watched someone walk away from that porch.

Brittany made it just around the first corner before she felt a familiar, all too assuming presence at her side. Resisting the urge to groan, figuring somehow Quinn and her uncanny ability to hide in the shadows had seen everything, and would  _never_ pass up an opportunity to gloat at Brittany's failure, she crossed her arms across her chest and refused to take the bait. They walked in silence for half a block, Quinn's smugness radiating off of her as Brittany's irritation grew.

"Just stop." Brittany huffed. "You've made your point."

"But Brittany, I haven't said anything." The corner of Quinn's lip twitched with an unformed smirk, and Brittany scoffed at the false sweetness in her words. "Just figured I'd come and help you, since it didn't go so well back at the chateau, did it?"

"How are you going to help? You're going to scare Mercedes too?" Brittany spoke through gritted teeth. "Because I seriously doubt that's going to fix anything here."

"And your ideas have worked  _so_ well today."

"Better than your  _lack_ of ideas." She snapped back, and immediately felt bad. She  _hated_ that everything with Quinn was an argument, she hated that it couldn't be easy, that she couldn't have a _normal_ friendship with the one person who was supposed to be able to understand her. But the thing was, other than the strange, otherworldly DNA, they had very little in common, and Brittany had long ago given up hope of them watching movies, doing homework, talking about crushes (although Quinn spent  _a lot_ of her time making fun of Brittany's  _creepy fucking obsession with Lopez,_ as she liked to call it), and resigned herself to the perpetual bickering. "If you're coming, you need to let me talk."

"I wasn't asking your permission, actually, but thanks. I'll keep my mouth shut if you somehow manage to get this Chernobyl level disaster back under control. But if you can't, I'm stepping in."

"You're not supposed to want me to  _fail,_ Quinn."

"I don't actually, but my bag is still packed, just in case. I don't have much to lose if I leave this town behind. You, on the other hand have a lot at stake, and somehow I believe that your  _passion,_ or whatever, for this shithole will help you get it done."

"That's surprisingly  _encouraging._ "

"Not trying to be." She shrugged. "I'm just being honest."

"Well thanks, I guess."

It was refreshing for Brittany, not having to fight Quinn on one small thing, even if part of her was wondering if there was some type of ulterior motive. Checking hazel eyes for a sign of malice or deceit, both were surprisingly absent, and Brittany let herself breathe the smallest sigh of relief. Approaching Mercedes house, Brittany stared at the blue door ahead of her for a moment, and let her mind drift to Santana. She'd said Mercedes was trustworthy, and despite the earlier incident that would call that into question, Brittany believed her, believed that she could make it right, if only she could convince Mercedes that  _she_ was worth trusting. For someone who found words difficult, it wasn't going to be an easy feat, but somehow it had to be done. When they made it to the porch, Brittany took one last look at Quinn, hoping for some nod of encouragement, but realizing when she was met with a blank look that her earlier words were the only bone Quinn would throw for the day. Inhaling one last deep breath, Brittany gave two hard raps on the door and shifted her weight between feet until Mercedes peeked through the crack of the door, her eyes swollen and red.

"I told Santana that I need time." She mumbled, refusing to meet Brittany's eyes, and throwing nervous looks to Quinn. "Are you here to end me now for that?"

"No." Brittany shook her head furiously,  _hating_ being seen as dangerous, as the enemy. "We're here because...because we asked you to trust us and take our side, but you really have no reason to, beyond what Santana is telling you."

"Okay..." Mercedes raised an eyebrow, waiting for Brittany to say more, still not opening the door beyond a crack.

"I want to answer your questions, and I want you to see that even though we're technically aliens, there is also a lot of human in us." Brittany tensed her jaw, hoping Quinn really wouldn't speak, because the last thing she wanted was for her to start off on something about how  _she_ didn't have human emotions, even though Brittany knew that somewhere deep down, she really  _did._ Instead of saying anything, Quinn just rolled her eyes and Brittany continued. "Do you think we could talk?"

There was a long, tense pause before Mercedes opened the door slightly wider, and Brittany heard the jingle of keys before she stepped through, locking the door behind her. Brittany didn't even have to look at Quinn to see the mockery was written all over her face. They were  _aliens_ , Mercedes had seen Brittany change the color of Santana's shirt, Quinn had  _probably_ been inside the Jones house while everyone was at the Pierces, assessing that situation, locks wouldn't exactly keep them out. Almost imperceptibly, Brittany shook her head, asking Quinn to stop, even in her own mind, and she was met with another eye roll. Once the door was secure, Mercedes led the two blondes over to the patio set on the other side of the porch, taking a seat, and gesturing expectantly to the bench across from her. A chill ran up Brittany's spine as she looked at Mercedes across the table, sending a silent hope to the great beyond that this would be the  _last_ interrogation she'd undergo for a while.

"Go ahead." Mercedes spoke after she and Brittany blinked at each other for a while, and Quinn looked like she was somewhere in between aggravation and boredom. "Say what ya'll want to say."

"I was hoping maybe I could show you." Brittany said quietly, the idea coming to her suddenly, and Mercedes' eyes looked like they might pop straight out of her head and roll away. "Not like earlier, I want to show you inside of me...I mean, not like my organs, or anything, like inside of my head."

"What, you're going to project your thoughts out into the sky for me? Some movie of the mystery that is Brittany Pierce?"

"No, it's not really like that. I can't,  _control_ what information you see or anything, I don't know how to explain it. It's like, I can make this mental connection with you."

"Like a mind meld?"

"You've really seen a lot of science fiction movies, haven't you?" Brittany tried to joke, and she  _swore_ she could see just the smallest hint of a smile on Mercedes' lips.

"Santana's dad is really into them." Mercedes shrugged. "I don't know how comfortable I am with you seeing into my head. I  _want_ to believe you, because I want to trust Santana, but I just...I don't know. I'm not sure what I thought she was going to tell me today, but I definitely didn't think it was  _this._ All this time, you've been in school with us, hanging out at the Lopezes cheesy alien themed diner, and we make fun of the tourists for believing that the crash happened, it's just a  _joke,_ except now it isn't,"

"I know." Brittany said softly, the familiar embarrassment about who she was coloring her cheeks. "Imagine how it feels to be us, to walk past that creepy museum with the autopsy pictures in the window, or to have to sit through that crash festival every year. Kinda sucks."

"Yeah. I guess so." Brittany heard the first sign of compassion in Mercedes' voice, and she seized the opportunity to do what she came for.

"I can block out the connection on my end, if you wanted to try this. I'm not going to invade your privacy." She could feel Quinn's eyes boring into her, sure that Brittany would have taken the opportunity to see where Mercedes actually stood. But this was about building trust, and they couldn't expect Mercedes to give them hers without having theirs.

"What about yours?"

"There are some things more important than privacy."

"And you promise you won't hurt me?" Mercedes asked, the first sign of trust.

"I swear." Brittany nodded, and held out her hand. "When we shake on that, I'll start the connection."

"I hope Santana knows that I'm a  _damn_ good friend to her, giving you my hand on a  _promise_ that you won't melt me from the inside out."

"She knows that you are, she really believes that you're a good ally for us to have."

"Well, I haven't made my decision yet." Mercedes reminded Brittany, but slowly, almost glacially extended her hand to where Brittany had opened hers.

The connection didn't happen instantaneously when their palms touched, Brittany gave Mercedes the opportunity to back out. She thought that it was Mercedes hand that she felt trembling, but then she realized it was her own. It was the ultimate form of vulnerability, allowing someone to access the core of her being, and she swallowed hard, trying to tamp the anxiety she felt surrounding it. Just as she closed her eyes, about to allow Mercedes in, she felt the warm weight slip out of her hand, and as her eyes snapped open, her heart sank. She shouldn't have hesitated, she should have just done it, should have made Mercedes  _know._

"I can't do it." Mercedes breathed, and Brittany vaguely registered Quinn rising up from the seat beside her. "I can't just _be in your head_ , it's not right."

"Wait,  _what?_ " Brittany looked at her, completely befuddled by that unexpected response.

"You were willing to do your nose twitchy voodoo thing and open up your soul, and you saved Santana's life. None of that makes me any less  _terrified_ , but I don't need to see inside your head to realize that you're being genuine. I'm sorry I didn't see it right away."

"You don't know me though."

"I don't, but I do know Santana, I've always trusted her instinct, and you just kind of, I don't know, sealed it for me."

Brittany took a deep, gasping breath, feeling like she needed to completely fill her lungs after metaphorically starving for air. Quinn had slumped back in the chair, her natural distrust for everyone and everything causing her eyes to go wide with disbelief.

"R-really?" Brittany stuttered

"Just like that?" Quinn snapped, finally breaking her agreed upon silence, and Brittany resisted the urge (not for the first time that day) to smack her. "What do you want from us?"

"I don't want anything. I just want to know that we're safe now."

"Mercedes. You're safe from us, you've  _always_ been safe from us, but I can't let you become a part of this without telling you the truth, without you knowing that  _we_ don't even know what lies ahead. We'll do whatever it takes to keep ourselves safe, and to keep you and Santana safe..." Brittany sighed, hating the idea of Santana in any more danger ( _of both of them in danger_ , she amended, reminding herself that Mercedes would have to be just as high a priority). "In saving her, I don't know what I've opened us up for. Hummel may be the worst of our problems, or he may be the least, we don't even know really who  _we_ are, let alone if we have bigger enemies out there."

"But you still saved her, knowing there could be life threatening consequences for you?" Mercedes voice was clouded with wonder, because even thought Santana had said as much, it was different somehow, hearing the words from the blonde. Brittany nodded, and Mercedes saw something deeper than she'd ever seen in another person's eyes at the mere  _mention_ of Santana to Brittany. "I always knew you had a crush on her, but it's more than that, isn't it? There's only one reason you risk your own life for another person. You're in love with her, aren't you?"


	5. Inevitable

Brittany could hardly hear Quinn's snicker over the sound of her racing thoughts. Of  _course_  she was in love with Santana, even if being in love with someone she'd barely exchanged words with until fate laid a nearly cruel hand in the diner seemed completely ridiculous. But somehow the situation didn't seem nearly as far fetched as it should. The tug at her heart, stronger every single time she looked at Santana, every time those dark eyes drew her in, every time unsure smiles were exchanged, was so much stronger than just some teenage crush. Brittany knew, somehow, deep with in her bones, that she was  _meant_  to love Santana, meant to love her and protect her with everything in her, even if she was unsure if she'd  _ever_ allow herself to feel the same love in return.

"Does she know?" Mercedes asked, Brittany's face giving away what she couldn't form into words.

"No." She wasn't sure if she even formed the word, but Mercedes nodded slowly, eyes full of an understanding that Brittany wouldn't have imagined possible only a few minutes prior.

"It looks like I've missed a lot in two days."

"You didn't, I can't, she can't..." Brittany really tried to make words, but the fact that her feelings for Santana were actually spoken out loud, even if  _she_  hadn't been the one to say the words was a lot to take. She could feel Quinn's eyes on her, but when she looked over, their expression was unreadable.

"Listen, I don't know what's going on, obviously, but if it's worth anything to you, Brittany, I'm the only one who Santana has ever given a shit about until now, but if everything that's just happened is any indication of what's in her head, she has some kind of strong feelings for you too." Mercedes told her, mistaking Brittany's hesitance toward admitting things as a fear that Santana  _didn_ _'_ _t_ feel the same, as opposed to  _couldn_ _'_ _t_ feel the same.

"As much as I  _hate_  to break up this little love fest-" Quinn rolled her eyes. "I actually value my  _life_  more than Brittany getting laid, or whatever, so maybe you two can pick this up  _after_  we deal with Hummel."

"Nothing to pick up later. It's not really a conversation for Brittany and  _me_ to have." Mercedes gave Brittany a meaningful look, and Brittany was glad she was being let off the hook. "So I'm part of your posse, or whatever, now, what do we do next?"

"We go back and let lover girl and Sammy boy know, since they're probably having a collective stroke over you being willing to betray seventeen years of friendship." Quinn glared at Mercedes, not really willing to let her off the hook so easy for nearly destroying their lives. Brittany's eyes shifted between the two of them,  _extremely_ concerned for how they would actually get along, now that they were supposedly on the same team, the same concern she had about Quinn and  _everyone_ on the planet.

"Fine." Mercedes bit her tongue, swallowing a retort, because whether she was on their side or not, something told her that challenging Quinn was unwise. "Let's go."

* * *

When the three girls arrived back at the Pierces, Santana and Sam were in exactly the same position  _Brittany_ and Sam had been earlier, pacing the floor. Santana looked like she was going to claw her own skin off, she  _felt_ like she was going to claw her own skin off, the cold fear of the unknown proving entirely too much for her to handle. When the door opened, and she caught sight of Mercedes entering behind the two blondes, the hammering of her heart tried to slow, but it wasn't until Brittany smiled and gave her a reassuring nod that she actually felt herself calm. The effect that the girl had on her should have scared her,  _would_  have scared her, had it been anyone else, but it didn't, it was the greatest comfort she'd ever felt. Part of her wondered if it was because Brittany had saved her life, so why  _wouldn_ _'_ _t_  everything feel safer around her, but another part, a far stronger part knew it wasn't that, knew that it was something so much bigger, something Santana didn't know if she would _ever_ understand.

"So the fearsome foursome is now the fearsome fivesome?" Sam asked hopefully, sending an awkward, ridiculous wink in Mercedes' direction that did absolutely nothing but make Santana, Brittany and Quinn feel completely uncomfortable.

"Shut up, Sam." Quinn spit. "We aren't having a party every time someone decides they don't want us dead."

"Don't know what kind of parties you go to, Quinn, but I'd say a dorky wink and a lame nickname is the furthest thing from a party I've ever seen." Santana teased, even though she knew she'd earn an eye full of daggers from the other girl.

"Says the one who came up with  _Alien Alliance_." Brittany spoke low so that only Santana could hear her, having found her way to the brunette' side without a conscious thought.

"I swear." Quinn crossed her arms across her chest. "The last thing I need in my life are  _more_  people who don't take shit seriously. Santana and Mercedes are talking to the sheriff in less than a day, can you all save your disgusting flirting for after that? And preferably when I'm  _not_ around to puke up my lunch."

"What do we really have to talk about?" Mercedes asked. "Santana told the sheriff that she didn't know the girl who went up to her in the diner, and I didn't tell him otherwise. We just need to reiterate the same story, right?"

"Yes and no." Brittany sucked her lips into her mouth, considering for a moment before continuing. "When you first talked to him, it was in the heat of the moment, and he didn't ask for details. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I'm pretty sure he knows it was me, and he's using the gunman as an excuse to talk to you both. You need to be on exactly the same page about every detail of what happened that day."

"Other people saw you there though, Brittany." Mercedes shifted her weight between her feet, and looked around cautiously, afraid she was speaking out of turn.

"I know, but the two of you are the ones who would have gotten the closest look. He's going to believe what he wants to believe, I know that, but at least it's a start."

"We've got this, 'Ce." Santana smiled, and although she'd been trying to keep herself from getting obscenely excited over the fact that her best friend didn't suck, and was actually going to be a part of this whole mess, Brittany didn't miss the way Santana's eyes lit up at the words, like she'd said them a million times in her life, but just a few moments earlier, she feared that she might never say again, and Brittany found herself smiling too. "We've been playing off each other's stories for sixteen years."

"How  _sweet._ " Quinn rolled her eyes.

It was surprising to everyone involved that the five of them working together wasn't uncomfortable, even with Quinn remaining uninvolved in favor of standing off to the side, offering biting commentary, and Sam's increasingly awkward attempts to flirt with Mercedes. Brittany patiently answered more of the questions Mercedes had, and both she and Sam showed her a little bit of their abilities. Santana watched, eyes glazed over with  _something_ each time Brittany manipulated the molecular structure of an object, her breath catching in her throat for some unknown reason, each and every time. Once Mercedes was fully comfortable with the situation she'd agreed to be a part of, Sam offered to walk her home, doing some kind of impression in the process (Brittany whispered to Santana that Sam had trouble learning to speak when they were first found, so he used to mirror the voices he heard on television, as he got older, he maintained that habit, whenever he was nervous). As she turned to walk out the door, Mercedes mimed a  _call me,_ holding her hand like a phone, and Santana nodded quickly, breathing a final sigh of relief as the front door shut.

"I'm out of here too." Quinn grabbed her bag and slung it over one shoulder. "Later."

"Do you want a ride?" Brittany asked.

"Nope, I've got shit to do."

"Quinn-"

"I'll leave your new besties alone." Quinn looked pointedly at Santana. "But I'm not just going to sit back and hope it all goes well tomorrow. I  _still_ think we need a backup plan, and since I'm the only one who feels that way, I'll be working on it while you sit around all wide eyed and optimistic."

Before Brittany could say another word, Quinn was out the door. She couldn't exactly argue with her desire to have a backup plan, she knew that in reality, Quinn was right, but watching Santana, actually  _feeling_ how determined she was to solve the problem, Brittany truly didn't believe they were going to need one. Santana had some kind of effect on people, a  _different_ effect than she had on Brittany, she was charming (and she had to be, as a Lopez), and never, with the exception of Quinn, had Santana failed to win a person over. With that charisma, and Mercedes backing her story, Brittany felt like it was truly impossible for Hummel not to listen.

"Um, Brittany." Santana started, breaking Brittany from her thoughts. "Would you mind maybe taking me home? It's just that, I was supposed to be at the library, and if I'm gone much longer, my dad is going to ask questions, and…"

"You're dealing with enough questions?" Brittany finished for her, and the tiny smirk at the corner of Santana's mouth couldn't be missed.

"Yeah, and I'd just rather put my focus on the important ones."

They didn't linger much longer in the Pierce house, because as much as Brittany would have  _loved_ to have Santana stay, to put on a cheesy movie and just watch the other girl laugh, or to eat dinner with her, pretend like she was normal, if only for an hour, she knew that they couldn't. She couldn't kid herself in believing that allowing herself to be with Santana would ever be as simple as going on Friday night dates or trading kisses in front of lockers at school. If ( _when_ ) she gave into the pull that seemed all consuming, it would be some sort of tangled mess of uncertainty, of danger, of spending every second of her life fearful of the risk she'd be putting that beautiful girl at. She wasn't ready for that, she wasn't sure either of them would ever be fully ready for that. Still though, as Santana buckled her seatbelt, Brittany looked over, and without really knowing why, the two of them just shared a smile.

"I don't know what you said, Brittany, but…thank you, for trusting me, for believing enough that Mercedes wasn't a bad person that you went over there to handle it."

"I trust you with my life, Santana. None of this makes any sense to me, because I've  _never_ trusted anyone, not even my own parents, who have given Sam and me everything, but there's just something about you."

"I-I don't know what to say." Brittany watched the blush creep over Santana's face, and it was a lot for her to take, combined with the pear scent of Santana's shampoo, and her fingers drumming oh-so-close to hers on the center console. "There has never been anyone who has just blindly trusted me like this, especially not with something so important."

"I guess I'm not just anyone then, huh?" Brittany teased a little, and felt her heart clench when Santana's dimples appeared.

"Oh no, Brittany Pierce, I think it's pretty clear that you're  _way_ more than just anyone." Santana laughed, and then turned serious again. "What did you say to Mercedes that made her trust you, when she wouldn't even trust me though?"

"Hey." Brittany's fingers itched to take Santana's hand in hers, but instead, she settled for resting the very tips on the outside of her wrist. "She actually didn't trust me, not until I offered to let her see inside of my mind."

"You-you can do that? You  _did_ that?" Santana felt an unexpected jealously pinch her hard and fast, and she fought the urge to pull her hand away from Brittany (even though the sensation of those fingers was causing tingles to run down her spine) and look completely ridiculous.

"I can. But I didn't. She said it was enough that I was willing to do it."

"Oh, okay." The green-eyed monster within her slowly withdrew it's head, and Santana let out an involuntary sigh.

"I'm glad I didn't have to, letting someone see all of me like that, it's not something I really wanted to do with just anyone. Especially not for the purpose of making someone trust me. I mean, I've never even initiated the connection on purpose, so I wasn't even sure if it was going to work, it usually only happens when I heal-" Brittany stopped, and her eyes went wide, realizing that she'd never even _thought_ to tell Santana that she'd already seen deep into her soul.

"You-you've seen me…like that?"

"Santana, I'm sorry! I should have told you, I just…there's been so much going on, and sometimes my mind gets jumbled, and I forget about important things."

They were both silent, and Brittany worried her bottom lip between her teeth, wanting to say more, wanting Santana to say  _something._ Instead, Santana just stared straight out through the windshield, considering. She wasn't mad, how  _could_ she be mad, when the reason Brittany had been able to see inside of her was because she was saving her life? But she was confused, and, admittedly, scared at what deep, repressed memories Brittany had pulled forth from within her, what embarrassing things the beautiful, damn near perfect alien girl sitting beside her had seen. She turned her head slightly, so she was looking at Brittany, and when she saw the genuine worry and concern on the blonde's face, she felt the guilt for not speaking sooner punch her low in the gut.

"I'm not mad, Britt." She said softly, the nickname slipping out without either of them even realizing it was said. "I'm honestly a little weirded out though. I mean, no one wants anyone poking around inside of their head, seeing things that they keep hidden from the world."

"I understand that." Brittany kept one eye on the road, and one on Santana's face. "I never would have invaded your privacy like if I had another choice. But if it helps, I don't think I could have seen anything inside of you that you should be ashamed of."

"What did you see?" Santana's breath hitched as she asked, torn between wanting to know, and feeling like hearing Brittany tell her would make her crawl under the seat, even if the other girl said that there was nothing shameful.

"It was just random glimpses of you, at different points in your life. In the diner, in your bedroom, at school, with your family, Mercedes, your other friends. I don't know, Santana, it was the feelings that I felt stronger than what I saw. This love, this acceptance, this feeling of belonging, but then there was some kind of sadness underneath it all, like there's always been something missing for you."

"You must think I'm really selfish. Having all of those things, and still wanting more." Santana's cheeks burned hot, knowing without really understanding  _how,_ that the feelings Brittany described were exactly what  _she_ had always wanted to feel, and because of who she was, never really could.

"I don't. I think maybe everyone has something that they want, something that they don't know how they get. For you, it's getting out of here, right?"

Santana didn't answer, she felt like she couldn't, felt like in the past few days, everything she'd thought she wanted had changed so much. She was mortified to admit it, even to herself, but somehow, in that one split second in the diner, she'd found something that seemed so much bigger and more incredible than the entire universe right in the town she'd been trying to escape for as long as she could remember. Not trusting herself to speak, because even with the powerful feelings that seemed to accompany her every interaction with Brittany, Santana didn't know how to put into words what she was feeling, so she just shrugged her shoulders. She didn't know how to tell Brittany that if she'd have her, her dream  _would_ come true, without ever leaving Roswell at all. She'd only wanted to be something other than ordinary, a thing she never thought possible in the small desert town, but with Brittany (if that was even a remote possibility), she didn't have to go further than looking in a set of piercing blue eyes to know that she  _was_ so much more than ordinary, that  _they_ could be extraordinary together.

"I could try with you too, if that would make you feel better." Brittany spoke again, mistaking Santana's silence again for discomfort with the situation. This time though, unlike with Mercedes, Brittany didn't feel like she was making a concession. She would gladly bare herself to Santana, even if the thought of her knowing that big secret (or maybe not so big, considering Santana was the only one yet to figure it out) sort of terrified her.

"No. I want to know everything about you, because I'm not going to deny that I'm fascinated with you. I want to know your favorite color, what your dreams are, even if you think you can't have any, what makes you laugh, and what makes you cry, what you look like when you wake up first thing in the morning, and what your lips taste like at night." Santana confessed, before she realized what she was saying, but once she started, she felt like she couldn't stop. "But I don't want to know that by just touching your hand and having you telepathically tell me, I want to get to know you the  _human way_ , by talking, by going out for a burger, because looking at you, I know that you're an alien, but I also know that you've got a whole lot of human in you too."

"Santana-"

"I know, you think you can't get involved with me. But I can tell that you feel what I'm feeling, or at least, I hope that isn't all in my head. I'm not pushing you into anything, listen, it's been an insane few days, but I do think that something happening between us is more than inevitable at this point. I'm not saying it's going to happen today, or even next week, but I am  _sure_ that sooner than later, it  _will._ " Santana looked up, noticing that Brittany had pulled up in front of the diner, and she reached for the door handle, swinging it open and unbuckling her seatbelt quickly. "Good night, Brittany. I'll see you at school."

As Santana waked up towards the back entrance of the diner, to the Lopez residence on the second floor, Brittany sat staring, completely floored by what had just happened in the car, and more overwhelmed by her lingering scent, even in her absence. Santana had spoken so certainly, so determined, and in Brittany's utter shock at the bold words, she couldn't even formulate her own response. As much as she wanted to protest it, she knew Santana was right, she felt the inevitability, knew the magnetic force that drew them together grew stronger with each passing moment, and Brittany buried her face in her hands, feeling her stomach churn vigorously at the prospect of something ( _everything_ ) more happening with that perfect human girl.

* * *

When Santana got to school the next morning, she was still reeling from the things she'd said to Brittany, and was more than a little embarrassed at how brazen she'd been in the heat of the moment. But she didn't regret what she'd said,  _couldn't_ regret it, because all of it was true, and she  _did_ want Brittany to know it. When she finally made her way to her locker, Mercedes was there, leaning up against it with a cocked eyebrow and an arm full of books.

"Hey. So, are we good?" Mercedes asked.

"Yeah, we're good. Sorry I didn't call you last night, I was just shot from the day and my mom wanted to talk to me for like four hours about that condiment conference, or whatever it was she went to last week."

"She talked to you about it for  _four hours_ and you don't even know what it was?"

"Would  _you_ listen to a person talking about ketchup for that long? I swear, she wasn't even born into this lame restaurant life and she takes it as seriously as the Lopezes." Santana rolled her eyes. "I do know that we can expect some kind of gigantic shipment of  _something_ later this week, so that's  _great_ news for us."

"Damn. Can't-" Mercedes lowered her voice significantly. "One of the, um,  _Germans,_ do a little nose twitch and deal with our inventory problems from your mother and her over ordering."

"I  _wish._ _"_ Santana laughed,  _really_ laughed, not even chastising Mercedes for calling them  _Germans,_ since it  _was_ a better nickname than the Hitler Youth. "Hey, thank you, Mercedes. Brittany told me about what happened at your house, and just, thanks, for not making her do that."

"Well, I think someone else deserves to be the one who gets that privilege instead of me." Mercedes shot Santana a knowing look. "What's going on with you two anyway, you both looked like you were going to explode last night from all the sexual tension in the room."

"It wasn't sexual tension, it was- Okay, fine, it was sexual tension, at least for me. God, have you seen her, I mean-"

"Not really my type, you know."

"Oh, but her brother is, isn't he? What's going on with  _you?"_

"Please, we spent all of five minutes together, he's  _sweet,_ but we'll see." She shrugged. "Is this normal? Talking about being attracted to  _them_  like it's no big deal?"

"I don't know, but I don't care if it is." Santana turned her attention back to the door, where Brittany, Sam and Quinn were entering, and gave the smallest of waves to Brittany, trying to be discrete, and trying  _not_ to look like a desperate little puppy, after she laid it all on the table the night before.

"Damn, girl, you got it bad for her, don't you? You're blushing."

"I don't blush and you know it." Santana scoffed. "I can't explain it, I wish I could, but it doesn't make sense. I'm drawn to her, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to make a damn fool of myself, because I can't read how she really feels."

"Can I ask you something?" Mercedes wanted to tell Santana about her almost-conversation with Brittany, but given the way the blonde was staring, she really didn't think it was necessary to reveal her secret, it would be revealed soon enough, if the looks were any indication. Instead, Mercedes wanted to make sure she was looking out for her best friend, make sure that she actually had a handle on her feelings, instead of being wrapped up in the whirlwind of emotions surrounding  _the incident,_ finding out Brittany's secret, and worrying about Hummel.

"Is it about Sam? Because yes, I think he's actually a decent guy. If it were  _Quinn_ that you thought was sweet, I'd be taking you to get your head checked."

"No, it's not about  _Sam,_ why don't you shout that a little louder though? Make sure my grandma in Albuquerque can hear you. I wanted to ask you about Brittany. I've known you my whole life, Santana, and you've always been the love her and leave her type, you don't do complicated, you don't do feelings. Now you're talking about the most complicated situation possibly in all of the universe, and that's  _fine,_ but you saying you're drawn to her, do you think that's just a side effect of being  _saved_ by her?"

"What, like hero worship?" Santana narrowed her eyes. "No. It's not. Yeah, I'm grateful that she saved my life, but I feel like something changed inside of me when I looked in her eyes, like I've always known her, or something, and it feels like."

"Those are strong feelings for someone you've only really known for a few days. Listen, my mom always talks about love at first sight, and all that sappy stuff, but I just want you to be careful, okay? Nothing about this is typical, and I don't want you to end up hurt."

"I appreciate your concern, really, but if I'd can't explain this  _thing_ to myself, I can't explain it to you yet." Santana said softly, letting Mercedes know that she wasn't angry at her for speaking her mind (since she  _was_ likely to snap at her, but this wasn't one of those times), but that she wasn't going to change her own. "But quick, talk about something else, they're close, and, whatever."

"I'm actually going to head to class. Meet me by my car this afternoon so your sorry ass doesn't have to walk to the police station?"

"Unfortunately." Santana sighed.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Like you said yesterday, we've got this. She'll be fine, they all will be."

On more than one occasion, in more than one class, Brittany and Santana caught each other's eyes looking up at clocks, counting down in hours, in minutes, in seconds until what seemed to be the most important meeting in both of their lives. With each shared glance, Brittany felt herself burn, felt her body respond in ways she'd only ever dreamed about, and even with the anxiety that coursed through her veins about what could happen in that police station, she heard, louder than anything else, Santana's words from the night before  _you've got a whole lot of human in you, I want to get to know you, inevitable._ It was the only thing getting her through the day, the only thing keeping her from packing a bag and fleeing somewhere with Quinn, away from questions, and the potential for harm, because there was something worth staying for, something that outweighed every single risk that came with it.  _Santana._ She had managed to embed herself in every fiber of Brittany's being, without either of them meaning for it to happen, in in doing so, Brittany was rooted to Roswell in a way she had never been before.

* * *

"Ready to go?" Sam asked, snatching the car keys out of Brittany's hand at the last bell.

"Go without me, if mom and dad beat me home, just let them know I'm working on a project and I'll be late."

"Britt, whatever you're thinking, it's probably a bad idea. Stay away from the police station. I get that you feel the need to watch her and keep her safe, but all that can come from you being there is you putting all of us, Santana included, in danger."

"What am I supposed to do, Sam? I can't just sit around and do  _nothing_."

"That's  _kind of_  our strategy right now, lay low and wait."

"Maybe Quinn's right, and this strategy  _sucks._ "

"You came up with it, and it  _doesn't_ suck, it's the only way. Why don't you go for a run? If you happen to run past the police station, don't stop and stare at the door, okay? You'll talk to Santana after, I'm  _sure_ she'll be dying to talk to you, especially after last night."

"We still didn't figure that out." Brittany groaned, hating that Sam was probably going to perpetually tease her after her complete inability to make some kind of move, and her  _ridiculously unnecessary over-cautiousness,_ as he'd called it.

"I know what you should do, you know what you should do, let's just hope this afternoon goes well enough that you can actually light a fire under your own ass and do it."

"I haven't decided anything, Sam."

"Okay, sure you haven't. Just keep pining after the girl who  _wants you_ from afar, because  _that_ makes all kinds of sense."

"To keep her safe."

"Just shut up, she's right you know, it's going to happen, because you're  _in love with her,_ and you can barely control yourself. She's on our team now, what are you going to do when you two are stuck in the backseat of the car and her skin is pressed up against you every time I hit a sharp turn, or-"

"Stop. Stop whatever weird action movie fantasies you're having about her  _right now._ "

"Make a damn move, Brittany. She's obviously no dummy and knows what she's getting into. Stop the excuses, I've been hearing about how perfect she is for ten years. You've got your shot, take it, before it's too late."

"Quinn would kill us both right now, if she knew we were talking about my love life, instead of what we are really supposed to be concerned with."

"Acting like normal teenagers." Sam shrugged. "It's all part of the plan."

* * *

Seated inside of the police station beside Mercedes, Santana crossed and uncrossed her legs about three dozen times, before Mercedes kicked her on the ankle to try and get her to relax. Of  _course_ Burt was stuck at an accident investigation, of  _course_ her agony had to be prolonged, it was the universe conspiring against her in an effort to make her spontaneously combust. They'd been there close to forty-five minutes (most of which, Santana had internally worried about what Brittany was thinking, if she was sitting there paralyzed with fear that something had gone wrong, or if Quinn was up on the roof, reporting back to base about the hold up) when Sheriff Hummel walked in and led both girls to a conference room in the back of the station. Santana breathed a sigh of relief that they weren't being questioned separately, that Mercedes was right beside her. It wasn't that she didn't trust her best friend, because she  _did,_ it was just that she refused to take any chances, not where Brittany's life was concerned.

"Thank you very much for coming in, ladies." Burt tipped his hat, before removing it and setting it down on the desk. "Seems like we're reaching nothing but dead ends in this investigation. No bullet holes, no suspects, but yet everyone in the diner heard a gun go off."

"Isn't it possible that a blank was fired, Sheriff?" Santana smiled sweetly, and was met with the vigorous shaking of Hummel's head.

"Not with the shell casings we found on the floor, Miss Lopez. There is no question those are consistent with a gun that actually fired live ammunition, and judging by the position everyone has claimed the gunman was in, we'd expect to find the bullet somewhere in the wall behind where you had been standing."

Santana shivered,  _again_  at the description of how close she'd really come to dying, and she felt Mercedes reach over and take her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. Hummel made her nervous, even more than the bullet, he made her feel like he  _knew_ things he wasn't supposed to know, or he  _thought_ he knew things, which was, in a lot of ways, infinitely worse. In thinking he knew things, he could fill in gaps with fiction, he could make that beautiful, lifesaving, special girl a monster, and that would only happen over Santana Lopez's dead body.

"The real question that's left though is where that bullet went."

"Sheriff Hummel, aren't we here to tell you what we know about the man who fired the gun?" Mercedes tried her best to sound respectful, she'd been raised to respect the law, she (and Santana both) had been friendly with Burt's son since Miss Tompkins' kindergarten class, and  _liked_ Burt, even, but what she didn't like was that borderline accusatory tone in his voice, before he'd even asked them any real questions.

"Of course, Miss Jones. Why don't we go ahead and go over that again?"

Sparing no detail, the two of them gave virtually the same description of the man in question and his companion, never varying from  _exactly_ what they'd told Sheriff Hummel in his initial investigation. Santana had to work impossibly hard to keep her eyes from trailing over to Mercedes, and to keep her mind from wandering off to the  _one_ person she couldn't think about while she was in that room, lest she mistakenly give away everything. When the initial questioning was over, Santana inhaled possibly the deepest breath she ever took, knowing what was coming,  _dreading_ having to answer questions about it.

"Before you go, ladies, I wanted to talk to you about another thing. A sort of, off the record investigation I'm working on." The sheriff pulled out a folder, and the girls exchanged a look, silently agreeing not to question him on the ethics of that, figuring the less they antagonize him, the better. "It seems to me that there might be some kind of  _supernatural_ elements at play in this case. A missing bullet, a girl about your age that neither of you recognize, and my son, he told me, Santana, about a mark he saw on your stomach at cheerleading practice the other day."

"I mean no disrespect, sir, but all of that sounds a little far fetched to me. I'm sure you'll find the bullet hole somewhere, and Mercedes and I see plenty of people all the time that neither of us recognize. The only thing remarkable about the girl that day is that she left without paying her bill, but I guess anyone would run after something like that."

"And what about the mark, Santana?" Sheriff Hummel's voice sounded harsher somehow, and Santana stood immediately, playing with the hem of her shirt, hands shaking, even though she knew full well that the only remnants of Brittany's handiwork were internal, the handprint had fully faded in her sleep the night before. "Kurt said he saw something that looked like it was glittering, or glowing when you were up on top of the pyramid yesterday."

"I'm not sure what he's talking about." Santana lifted her shirt, revealing a clear expanse of olive colored skin. She felt Mercedes exhale beside her, forgetting she hadn't known it had faded, and Santana hoped to every higher being in the universe that the sheriff didn't hear that breath. "It must have been a reflection, or something."

"Hmm. I'm going to show you something, and I hope it doesn't unsettle you too much, but I feel it's necessary that you see this."

Neither Santana nor Mercedes believed for a second that he hoped he wouldn't unsettle them, in the contrary, unsettling them might give him exactly the answers he was searching for. Letting her eyes flicker closed for the briefest second as the sheriff opened his unremarkable manila folder, Santana hoped that Mercedes had enough faith in their newfound friends not to let anything inside change her loyalties. She opened her eyes again at the gasp from her best friend, and felt sick to her stomach at the image of a woman, or rather, a corpse, with the same mark that had faded from Santana's stomach displayed prominently at the base of her throat.

"Why are you showing us this?" Santana fought the urge to be sick. "What does this have to do with a gun going on in a diner, Sheriff?"

"I'm not really sure, I was hoping you'd be able to tell me. I have known both of you since before you were born, I grew up with your parents, if you're involved in anything that isn't safe, it's my obligation to protect you, and all the citizens of Roswell. This woman, and six others like her  _died,_ and the official cause of death? Melted internal organs. That's a pretty awful way to go, isn't it?" Burt Hummel eyed both of the girls carefully, watching for a reaction. Mercedes simply clasped her hands together and averted her eyes from the autopsy photograph, but Santana studied it closely, looking for any indication that it was fabricated.

"This is dated 1947. That was almost seventy years ago. I still don't see your point in showing us this." Santana tried her hardest to keep her voice steady, to sound sure as she spoke.

"And the being who did this has never been found." Hummel let his words settled in for several moments before he spoke again. "You've never seen a mark like this before, you're sure? Not even one that faded away after a few days?"

"No." Santana lied, sincerity in crystal blue eyes playing in her mind, reminding her that even if the picture  _was_ real, it wasn't Brittany, couldn't be Brittany.  _Her_ alien saved her life,  _her_ alien was tucked away in some incubation pod in 1947, and even if the being that had killed those seven people  _hadn't_ acted in self defense (which, given all Santana had read on the internet, she was nearly certain that they  _had_ ), it was no reflection in Brittany, or Sam, or even Quinn. "And I'd really like if I didn't have to look at that anymore."

"What about you, Mercedes?" He ignored Santana's request and turned to her friend, who was wringing her hands furiously. Santana couldn't breathe, waiting for Mercedes to answer, fearing that she couldn't believe in Brittany the way Santana could, fearing that even after everything that happened in the past twenty-four hours, it could all still fall out from beneath them.

"No, sir." Mercedes' voice shook when she finally spoke, and Santana realized that she wasn't even lying, she  _hadn't_ ever seen the handprint on Santana's stomach, just the shimmering remnants of it. "And I have to agree with Santana. Please, can you put it away, please? I feel like I'm going to bring back up the tater tots I had for lunch if you keep that out any longer."

"I will, just give me one more minute. Are you sure you didn't recognize the girl in the diner? Are you sure she isn't someone you go to school with?"

"Sheriff, why do I feel like you're accusing us of something?" Santana bit her tongue hard, feeling like it was very possible she could lose her temper at any given second. "All I did was go to work, and then someone  _shot a gun in my father's diner,_ a gun that could have killed me, if I wasn't lucky enough that the bullet missed me. Why do I feel like I'm on trial here?"

"Like I said, Miss Lopez, I'm just trying to make sure everyone's safe. If you feel like you're in some kind of danger, you don't have to be afraid to tell me."

"I'm not in danger! I'm alive, I'm fine, and I'm really shocked that you're buying into some conspiracy theory about creatures who  _melt organs._ Sheriff, please, you're scaring us both. I want to go home now."

"My intention isn't to scare you." He spoke calmly, and Santana felt the urge to vomit for an entirely different reasons than the one she felt looking at the dead woman. "I just want you to be aware that things aren't always what they seem, it's important that you remember that."

"Well, Sheriff Hummel, I hate to be rude to you, because like you said, I've known you my entire life, but right now, it seems to me like  _you_ are the one who isn't what they've always seemed. I don't know what you're getting at here, because  _nothing happened,_ and you're showing two  _minors_ pictures of a  _dead body_  and trying to tell us about some murdering creature  _seventy years ago,_ before we were born, before  _you_ were born, is somehow connected to a gun going off a few days ago. This makes no sense to me. You may as well just come out and say  _trust no one."_

"You aren't children anymore, unfortunately. The world won't coddle you from the harsh realities, my father didn't do it to me-" Both girls heard the almost imperceptible hitch in the sheriff's voice at the mention of his father, and Santana couldn't help but wonder if he really had any inclinations of supernatural play, or if he'd fabricate them regardless, simply to vindicate the man who was locked away for the theories people called him crazy for.

"But you're not either of our father." Mercedes finally spoke, knowing that if Santana did, she was going to completely lose her cool.

"No, I'm not, but to keep my own son safe, I need to know if there's something going on in his own town, in his own  _school_ that could put him in danger."

"What are you implying, Sheriff?" Santana nearly spit, the disdain ringing sure as she spoke his title. "That there are  _aliens_ in our high school?"

"You tell me, Miss Lopez. Are there? Was it Brittany Pierce who went up to you in the diner that day? Did she do something to you?"

The room suddenly felt small and claustrophobic at the direct mention of Brittany, even though the preparations by both Pierces and Quinn had prepared both Santana and Mercedes about Burt Hummel's suspicious interest in them, ever since that night so long ago in the desert. Santana knew she had to breathe, she had to keep herself from completely melting down, or else she'd give it all away, she'd put Brittany in danger (and earnest blue eyes, pleading, full of unspoken words, was all Santana could picture to keep her from shattering). Hardening her features, Santana looked to Mercedes, who kept a blank look on her face, then back to Hummel, who was studying her cautiously, before pushing herself up out of her seat.

" _Brittany Pierce?_ You think  _Brittany Pierce_ is the escaped alien murderer from 1947? She's sixteen years old! And have you  _met_ her? I mean, I don't know her all that well, but I know that she wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone  _kill_ seven people, even if it  _wasn't_ sixty years before she was born!"

"Like I said, things aren't always what they seem. Don't forget that I'm the one who found her and the boy ten years ago, and where they were before that, no one knows."

"So that's grounds for suspect?" Santana felt like she was on one of those ridiculous law shows that her mother so loved to watch, like Brittany was on trial, and she was her counsel, and she fought the urge to yell out things like  _objection, speculation!_  "If you're going with  _that,_ what's to stop you tomorrow from saying that you think  _I_ am some kind of supernatural creature? Or Mercedes? Or anyone else? This  _off the record investigation_ that involves looking at pictures of dead bodies, and you thinking some quiet, pretty girl in my school is actually someone from the '47 crash in a sixteen year old's body is freaking me out. It wasn't her in the diner, We both told you we didn't recognize the person who is basically  _irrelevant_ anyway, because all she did was ask me if I was okay when I _fell._ I've given you no reason not to believe me. You know me, you know I've never had a reason to lie. Mercedes, I want to go now, I think we've given all the information we have, the information that's actually  _relevant_ to what happened the other day. Come on."

"Sheriff." Mercedes stood up, and Santana felt her heart drop in fear,  _again,_ sick with fear for what she'd say. "Santana is right. Brittany's just a girl, and it's not right for you to say things that sound like you're accusing her of  _murder,_ for no reason other than that her and Sam had crappy parents who dumped them off in the desert."

"Ladies-"

"No." Santana shook her head, sucking her lips into her mouth angrily. "I'll answer all the questions you want about what the man who pulled the gun looked like, but the rest of it has nothing to do with us. So can we leave?"

"Yes." Hummel conceded, knowing he wouldn't push them to speak any further, knowing that if he did, he'd end up sounding like a lunatic, that he had to tread lightly, or else he'd end up like his father. As he watched them walk out of the room, he knew he was safe from that fate, for now, knew that their loyalty to Brittany Pierce would keep them from ever again discussing what happened in that room, lest they draw attention to her. More importantly though, he knew that though their words spoke the contrary, every action, every ounce of defensiveness that oozed out of both girls,  _especially_ Santana Lopez affirmed what he had already suspected, he was on the right track in his theories, and he would do whatever it took to get to the truth, do whatever it took to vindicate his father, to make right the deaths of the seven innocent people that he'd never known.

By the time Santana and Mercedes made it out of the police station, Santana's false bravado crumbled, and she was left trembling, rapidly swallowing tears of anger, of fear, of the blood boiling protectiveness that her small frame could scarcely handle. Though it was odd for a New Mexico September, a steady rain fell from a grey sky (though Santana wasn't sure she could really find anything odd anymore, the clouds could open up and spill orange soda, and it  _still_ wouldn't be the strangest thing to her), and her t-shirt was soaked through by the time she'd walked ten feet. As they approached Mercedes' car, Santana realized she couldn't get in, she couldn't go from feeling smothered in the police station, to the small space of the car, to winding up in the diner filling salt shakers under her father's watchful eye, even if it  _was_ her day off. She felt the urge to run, to blow off steam, the scream into the damp air, to release the tightly coiled tension that threatened to strangle her before she had to go home and pretend she was normal, pretend that her greatest fear hadn't cone true, pretend that Sheriff Burt Hummel wasn't sitting in his office, believing that Brittany, her Brittany (whether she had real right to that claim or not, she certainly  _felt_ like  _her Brittany,_ deep in her bones) was both everything she was and everything she wasn't, all at the same time.

"'Cedes, I need to go for a run, I just  _can't_ go home right now."

"Okay." Mercedes nodded, understanding.

"Thank you, thank you for not taking it back, even after-" Santana didn't mean for the choked sob to claw it's way out of her throat, but it did, and she feared they'd never stop, not until she could know that Brittany was safe.

"I know she wasn't the one who...who did that. That none of them are, even crazy Quinn."

"How, how are you sure?"

"You're not?" Mercedes eyes widened.

"No, of course I am. I'm more sure of that than anything. But your stake in this is different."

"I know because you're alive. Only an idiot would blow sixty-seven years of cover to save your life, even if you  _are_ the self-proclaimed  _hottest bitch in town_ , especially if that idiot  _killed_ seven people in the past. And I know because Brittany was going to do her freaky mind meld, and because Sam is a huge dork, and even if I think he's cute, I don't think he could pull that off. And even Quinn, she's a scary bitch, but she's not evil." Santana just threw her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly, because she wasn't sure what else to do. "Even though I got off to a crappy start with this, I'm all in, okay? Trust me that it won't turn on you, on them."

"I do. I know you shouldn't have had to prove yourself, because I really  _did_ trust you from the beginning. I'm just scared, I'm so scared to lose this person I don't even know yet. Brittany is so worried about protecting me, and here I am, just as worried about protecting her."

"I get it. Whatever this weird thing that's happening between you is, you manage to make it seem like it all makes sense."

"Thanks for being supportive, or whatever. This whole thing is so uncharacteristically mushy for me, so I'm just going to go, before it gets really weird."

"Good idea, we just couldn't  _live_ if we had any weird in our lives." Mercedes teased a little bit, and Santana managed the smallest laugh.

* * *

Knowing that she needed to call Brittany at some point, to fill her in on  _whatever_ that was that happened with Burt Hummel, Santana slung her backpack over the back, not caring in the slightest about her books getting wet, and took off on a run that only veered slightly from her path home. She tried to convince herself that it was all okay, that she'd saved the day, that Hummel no longer had reason to suspect Brittany, but she knew it wasn't true, knew that he'd keep digging, knew that Brittany would have to be more careful than ever. On top of that, there was also this new information, this evidence of someone else out there, someone like the three aliens in Roswell (or maybe not at all, Santana couldn't really reconcile the idea that this person Hummel had painted as a cold-hearted killer could in any way be connected to beautiful,  _good_ Brittany), someone who could maybe help them find the answers to all the questions they could never ask. So deeply distracted by her own thoughts, Santana ceased paying attention to where she was going, until  _smack,_ she slammed right into another warm body. Before she even looked to see who she hit, tingles took over, and she gasped at the feeling, immediately finding Brittany's eyes with her own.

"Hey." Santana felt a smile grow on her lips, in spite of everything as she steadied herself on your feet.

"Hi. You're done?" Brittany asked, then mentally slapped herself on the forehead, because  _obviously_ she was done, if she was  _outside_ , and she knew, judging by her last lap past the police station twenty-minutes earlier, when Mercedes' car was still in the parking lot, that they hadn't been done very long.

"Yeah. I just needed a minute before I could go home and handle it. I'm sorry I didn't call you right away..."

"I don't have my phone anyway." Brittany gestured to her running shorts and wet tanktop ( _deliciously wet,_ Santana thought, then shook her head to quiet the wanky thoughts in her mind). "How bad was it?"

"Brittany." Santana stepped closer, the gap between them barely existent as she wrung her hands furiously. "He point blank asked me if it was you."

"Okay." Brittany sucked in breaths quickly, because even though she'd expected that, it didn't make it easier to hear.

"There's more, and I don't know how exactly to say it, so I'm just going to start from the beginning."

Slowly, Santana recounted the events to Brittany, her heart aching,  _breaking_ as she  _felt_ Brittany's clench from inside her separate body, felt every quick pulse of her heart, as if the bold was running through her own veins. She didn't look away from Brittany's face, she needed her to  _feel_ that Santana knew she wasn't that being from 1947, that she could feel every once of good that she was, that she was a healer, not a killer. When Santana was finished, she could feel her own hands shaking, but Brittany's were shaking even harder, and she grabbed them, squeezing them tightly, feeling the overwhelming urge to give her the simplest of human comforts.

"Is this where I come from, Santana?" Brittany squeaked, and even in the rain, Santana could see the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "From killers?"

"Brittany. You weren't there. I wasn't there. Hummel wasn't there. You don't know why those people were killed. We've heard about..." Santana stopped, not wanting to recount the horror stories of experiments and labs that she'd read online, not wanting to breathe life into Brittany's fear that it could happen to her. "You don't know why they did what they did, okay? They were threatened, and maybe  _you,_ and Quinn, and Sam were threatened too. You don't know how you ended up nine miles from the crash site. Everyone does things they wouldn't ordinarily do if they're protecting themselves, or someone important to them."

"I couldn't kill." She whispered, two big tears falling from her eyes, tears that burned Santana's forearm as they landed there.

"Even if it meant dying yourself? Someone you  _love_ dying?"

Brittany cast her eyes down, because she knew they would betray the truth if Santana were to continue to look into them. Horrible, violent visions passed behind them, visions of the girl before her in a situation where she'd have to kill or watch her die, and she knew that Santana was right, that if the circumstances forced her, she  _would_ do anything to keep her alive. When she looked back at Santana, she saw this deep, unmistakeable understanding on her face, and her heart constricted, and then quickly swelled back, larger than it had been before at the feelings she had when looking at the other girl.

"What am I supposed to do? What would  _you_ do with this information?"

"Britt…I think this is a conversation you should have with Sam and Quinn, it's not my place."

"I will, before I do anything, of course I will. But when I talk to them, they're going to tell me what  _they_ want to do. I can't go in there without knowing how  _I_  feel first. Please, if you were me, tell me what you would do."

Hesitating, Santana looked into Brittany's pleading eyes. It wasn't what either of them had expected to come about from Santana and Mercedes meeting with Hummel, but the unexpected or not, this new possibility had come up, this possibility that there was someone out there that could have answers about who Brittany was, where she came from,  _why_ she was on Earth. Santana couldn't imagine going through a life with so much unknown, and although a deep part of her feared that Brittany searching for the being who'd caused the harm in Hummel's pictures could potentially put her in danger, she was sure that if the roles were reversed, she'd be the first one searching for them.

"I'd do everything to took to find them." Santana watched relief flood Brittany's face at her words, and she let out a stream of breath.

"Okay." Brittany nodded slowly. "I guess that's my answer then. I think it's what I want, I'm just glad I'm not totally crazy for wanting to go on a wild goose chase for someone who's killed, and someone who we have no evidence even exists past the year of the crash."

"Looks like we'll have to research then, I mean, if that's what the three of you decide together."

"Thank you, Santana. For Hummel, for talking me through this, for offering to help. Just, thank you. It means a lot to me."

"I didn't do much." Santana shrugged, face burning even in the cool rain under the intensity of Brittany's gaze. "But, I did my best, I guess."

"I should go." Brittany said softly, knowing that if she stayed much longer, if she felt the tug on her heart much longer, she was going to cave. "Sam and Quinn…"

"Will want to know what happened. Yeah. My dad probably needs help anyway."

Returning Santana's small smile, Brittany turned away, poised to run the rest of the way home, and think on everything she'd just heard, and plan her response to Quinn and Sam's expected reactions to the idea of another one of them. But even as she took her first steps away from Santana, Brittany could still feel the electric current that ran between their bodies, could feel that invisible, increasing pull. She wanted to walk away, wanted to do the right thing, the noble thing, even, especially as she processed how nothing was really settled with Hummel, and she was probably about to take steps toward making life even  _more_ dangerous, but as the space between her and Santana grew, the ache for her increased tenfold. Her mind was reeling with conflict, the conflict between wanting to know where she came from, and wanting to further assimilate into the human world. Conflict, it always seemed to be conflict. Conflict with her and Quinn, conflict with Hummel, a constant war between her alien DNA, and the human body that she so desperately wanted to fill, conflict between her head and her heart, conflict with what she wanted, and what she wouldn't let herself have.

"Santana." Brittany called out, whipping her head around at exactly the same time as the brunette, who'd turned in the other direction.

"Brittany." She took two large steps forward, until they were standing barely a breath apart and Santana could feel the same raindrops that fell on Brittany's face splash onto her own.

"Last night…I didn't say anything back to you."

"No. You didn't."

"You told me that you can see the  _human_ in me. All my life here, that's all I've wanted, to feel human, and I think…after hearing about this other  _being_ out there, I need to feel it even more. All my life, I've had to push it away, because I couldn't understand what it really  _meant_ to be that way. I'm an outsider, I'm  _always_ going to be an outsider, but when I'm around you, I don't feel like one, I don't feel like I'm not human anymore. I feel like I'm part of something that I can't explain, because something is pulling me in  _to you._ When I saved you, I expected a lot of things, but I didn't expect  _this._ I'm trying so hard to do what I'm pretty sure is the right thing, even if it's the last thing I want, but I don't know if I have the strength to keep fighting this  _pull_ I feel towards you."

"So don't." Santana breathed, her lips so full, so close, so tempting. "Please, don't fight it anymore, because I'm afraid if you do, the tug is going to tear me to bits."

Brittany almost walked away, her feet were poised to do it, poised to let her reflect, to think too hard (harder) about the consequences, to worry about Sheriff Hummel, and the fourth alien, the things she was  _supposed_  to be thinking about, but her heart, her heart that already loved Santana so wholly, her heart that recognized that even with her danger, her freakish parts, Santana just wanted her, no matter the risk, rooted her feet in place. Her heart brought her hand to Santana's cheek, where an unintentional surge from her fingers dried the wetness from the rain, her heart drew her lips closer, closer, until they pressed against Santana's. The instant they did, and Brittany felt Santana squeak against her in a sort of elated surprise, the rest of her being followed her heart's direction, and surrendered completely to the kiss. She wanted more, she wanted  _everything,_ and as her tongue slid against Santana's bottom lip, seeking access into her mouth, Brittany didn't see the stars people talk about in movies, instead, she saw the Earth, she felt herself rooted, tethered by the pull, that unmistakable bond forever fastening her to Santana, and with a single kiss in a New Mexico rainstorm, it was obvious to both of them that there was no turning back.


	6. Burning

Santana couldn't believe it, she couldn't believe that Brittany was actually kissing her, couldn't believe that the out of body experience that was happening to her was actually  _real._ She felt like she was on the verge of something she couldn't fully explain, like all the air she was sharing with Brittany was bigger, somehow, than real air, and it was filling up her head with every breath, and that she might actually float away. Feeling the need to tether herself, she wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck, and Brittany responded by dropping a hand to her hip, pulling Santana closer, never breaking the kiss. Although she could hardly focus on anything but the taste of Brittany's lips and the intense, burning desire in the pit of her stomach, Santana swore that behind her eyes, saw real stars, bright and more colorful than any she'd ever seen.

When they finally broke apart, both girls only pulling away due to the necessity of taking in oxygen, they were left with racing hearts, gasping for breath. After Santana dropped her arms from Brittany's neck, she was so relieved when the blonde took both of her hands, that she leaned in for another quick peck. She was soaking wet, with sticky desert mud splashed midway up her calves, and yet she was so delirious off of the greatest kiss she'd every experienced, off of  _Brittany_ _'_ _s_ kiss, off of Brittany herself, that she was fairly sure she could be drowning in the ocean and fail to notice. Brittany had kissed her, Brittany truly  _did_  return her feelings, and the skin below Santana's shirt burned like fire, nearly convincing her that the now faded handprint had, in fact, made a reappearance.

"Wow." Santana breathed, then felt her face flame at her unabashed joy.

"Yeah." Brittany choked out a thick laugh, her eyes never leaving Santana's face. "Are you okay?"

"So okay. You never have to ask me that after you kiss me again."

"Santana-"

"Britt, please don't say this was a mistake, because we both know that it wasn't."

"No, I  _definitely_ wasn't going to say that." Brittany promised, still holding tightly to Santana's hands. "I was going to say that I have so much I want to say to you, but we both have to go, before everyone wonders where we've gone. Your father, and-"

"Quinn and Sam, yeah. I know you have to go talk to them." Santana rocked up on her toes to press another soft kiss on Brittany's mouth. "You're going to be okay. I'm here for you, alright? You can call me later, or I'll leave the window open and you could-"

"I'd like that a lot, actually." Brittany smiled weakly, and Santana ached inside at how terrified that beautiful girl was about the fourth alien, about her  _feelings_ about the fourth alien. "I mean, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't. You can come any time...I mean..." Santana blushed furiously again, but when she saw a real smile form on Brittany's face, she couldn't help but laugh. "I'll see you later. Good luck with them."

"Thank you." Brittany nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, knowing she'd need a  _lot_ more than luck to deal with what was to come.

When Brittany finally released Santana's hands, she realized that hers were shaking, and from more than the buzz that still ran through her body after that kiss (or kisses, really, she thought it was sort of the cutest thing in the entire world how once it happened, Santana felt the need to keep claiming her mouth, a need Brittany felt absolutely no desire to put a stop to). Even with Santana's words, Brittany was still a little sick to her stomach about going after someone who had killed, about actually  _wanting_  to go after someone who had killed. But as much as Brittany  _wanted_ to be human, as much as she wanted to assimilate into the only world she'd ever known, into  _Santana_ _'_ _s_ world, she knew that she wasn't, and more importantly, she knew that she had too many questions to keep from seeking out the answers. Turning her eyes back to Santana's retreating form, Brittany watched her shake her wet hair, watched the little bounce of her feet as she ran, watched as she rounded the corner back onto Main Street, to the diner, and she hoped, hoped more than she had  _ever_  hoped for anything in her life, that in seeking out someone so potentially dangerous, she wouldn't put that girl, the girl she  _loved_ , the only thing that ever  _truly_  mattered to her in the gravest danger.

* * *

Arriving back at her house, Brittany wasn't surprised to find Quinn sprawled out on the couch, closed eyes immediately snapping open at the sound of the door, and Sam pausing his video game with equal speed. As much as Brittany wanted to shower, wanted to wash away the mud, sweat and  _stress_ of the past hour of her life, she knew that two sets of expectant eyes wouldn't allow that. With a sigh, she kicked her sneakers off into the haphazard pile by the door and sank down onto the bench there, figuring her mother complaining about water and mud in the house would be the  _least_ of her problems.

"I ran into Santana." Brittany told them both, and Quinn nearly jumped up off of the couch.

"What did she do? Or was it the other one?" Quinn immediately accused, misreading the anxious expression on Brittany's face.

"Seriously Quinn, can you just  _stop_  with the paranoia about Santana and Mercedes? They're the ones who saved our asses-"

"The asses that only needed to be saved because of-"

"Here we go again." Sam stood up, tossing his controller on the floor. "Give it a goddamn rest, Quinn, everyone is sick of hearing you bitch about Brittany."

"And I'm sick of hearing about Saint Santana and Sister Mercedes. You two act like they walk on water, get over it already, they're human girls, that's it, they're nothing special." Quinn seethed, and Brittany and Sam exchanged a look, hearing the jealousy that  _Quinn_ probably didn't even know she harbored.

"Is it really necessary for you to fight with me about this every time I walk into a room?"

"Is it really necessary for you to have that stupid moony Santana face every second of every day?" Quinn spat back, mimicking Brittany's speech pattern.

"Maybe it is." Brittany felt her mouth curve into an unavoidable smile, and unconsciously, her tongue poked out just slightly against her bottom lip, imagining the taste of Santana's mouth against hers.

"You fucked her, didn't you?"

"What? No?" Brittany scowled, not that she didn't  _want_  to, she'd wanted  _that_  for years, probably, but when she was with Santana, it was so much more than that. She wanted to run her lips over every inch of her skin, she wanted to watch those dark eyes turn darker, she wanted to feel so completely surrounded by that perfect human being, but not just for the physical (as good as Brittany was sure the physical would be, since they could barely brush  _fingers_ without the world seemingly spinning off it's axis), but because Brittany loved Santana  _so much,_  she just wanted  _everything_  with her, especially now that she'd let go and kissed her. "The Sheriff showed Santana and Mercedes a bunch of pictures of dead bodies, to try to get them to tell him what they know about us, about me, really."

"What?" Sam nearly exploded, surprising Brittany, since it was typically Quinn who reacted so violently. "Now he's accusing you of  _murder_?"

"There were handprints on the victims. And they're dated from the summer of 1947." Brittany told them quietly, surely, letting the implications of what she was saying sink in, rather than speaking further.

"So there are more of us." Quinn's eyes lit up in a way Brittany had never seen. "More of us who might actually know what the  _hell_  we are doing here."

"Seems like it. At least one more, or there  _was_ , sixty something years ago. I mean, we don't know if we are going to continue to age normally, if we die..."

"Exactly why we need to find them!"

"I'm not arguing with you on that." Brittany put her hands up, one of the rare times she and Quinn were  _not_  going to fight about something. "I agree with you."

"No way!" Sam shook his head emphatically. "Brittany! You want us on a wild goose chase following a trail of decades old dead bodies? That's ridiculous! And dangerous! I thought our entire goal here was to  _avoid_  getting into danger."

"Oh, of course this wasn't going to be easy." Quinn rolled her eyes. "It would be too much to ask that you  _both_  agreed with an intelligent idea."

"Shut up, Quinn. Think about Mercedes, think about  _Santana_ , Brittany, if you're not going to think about yourself. Are you really willing to risk her life to  _maybe_  get some answers."

"Stop, Sam." Brittany swallowed hard, trying to clear away the awful imagery his words had conjured up in her mind. "This isn't just some unimportant thing that we're talking about. We didn't get here on our own, and we obviously weren't sent to a foreign planet in  _egg sacs_  for no reason. If this other alien is out there, maybe we can finally find out the answers to everything."

"I thought you wanted to be human, Britt. Now you're alien chasing?"

"I did...I mean, I still do. But we aren't, Sam. It sucks, especially because it's come up now that I really feel a little like I  _am_ , for the first time in my life, but no matter what we do with whatever information we find,  _if_ we can even find it, I think we have to try."

"Well I'm outnumbered, so it doesn't really matter  _what_ I want." Sam sighed, not angry, just defeated.

"It does matter though." Brittany told him, feeling bad that she and her brother didn't agree, and Quinn shot a glare in her direction, assuring she was going to change her mind. "Can you just think about it tonight? We probably  _all_  should, before we do anything rash."

"And what if  _he_ does, Brittany? He's got pictures of dead people with handprints that look like yours, and your little  _girlfriend_ , by some miracle, didn't give him the answers he wanted. Waiting even a minute is a really stupid idea."

"Quinn, this isn't deciding whether or not to order pizza or Chinese, this is deciding whether or not to hunt down a  _killer."_ Sam huffed.

"Yeah, a killer who obviously saved our asses. Quit being such a fucking  _human,_ even Brittany is willing to do this."

"Enough." Brittany snapped. "We're waiting until tomorrow.  _But,_ you're right, Quinn. We don't know what Hummel is going to do, what lengths he's willing to go to so he can prove that I was the one who killed those people, and we need to watch him."

"I'll do it, take a night off from Judy's shit and maybe even get some kind of hint as to how we'll find an extra terrestrial in a haystack, once you come to your senses, Samuel."

"Don't hold your breath. Unless either of  _you_ come to  _your_  senses tonight and decide  _not_ to get us killed, I'm going to be stuck doing this, but don't think I'll be happy about it."

"You're an idiot." Quinn spit back. "If E.T. was going to kill us, they would have done it when we were defenseless."

"Whatever, you don't know that. I'm going upstairs." Sam grabbed his backpack off the floor and stormed out of the room.

"You know, you didn't have to call him an idiot. We're all on the same side, even if you hate us both."

"I don't hate you, Brittany Pierce." Quinn rolled her eyes, unwilling to show a lot of affection, but also unwilling to let Brittany believe that. "If I did, I would have been out of here a long time ago. I've got nothing holding me here but you two, and it would be a lot easier if I didn't."

"Quinn-"

"No, we're not having some heart to heart, paint each other's toenails and talk about whatever forbidden love you think you've got going on with Lopez. I'm bound to you, or whatever, but I don't want to talk about your cheesy picture perfect life and how you probably kissed your lover girl in the rain and saw stars like you're in some lame Julia Roberts movie. I want to go and watch Hummel, and rummage through his office a little, while I make sure he's otherwise occupied. As much as  _you_ love it here, I want to get us all the hell out, back to where we belong, so that's what I'm worried about, not the living, breathing version of  _Dawson's Creek._ "

"You know what? Fine." Brittany couldn't help but feel the slightest prickle at the back of her eyes, like in some bizarre way, she was constantly seeking the approval of Quinn, the approval she'd never get. "I just wish we could be like sisters again, like we used to be. You can say it was the whole thing with the Schuesters, but I remember you being mad at me  _long_ before that, and I know that you never actually  _wanted_ to go to Ohio anyway, even if it wasn't for Sam and me being here. I just wish you'd tell me what the real issue between us is, because-"

"Yeah, well, that sucks, because I wish a lot of things too." Quinn clicked her tongue, cutting Brittany off. She'd been pretending for years, since she was twelve and had the chance to be adopted by some guy with an ass on his chin and his  _insane_ wife all the way in some shitty town in Ohio, far away from her irrational anger towards Brittany, but she didn't go. It  _was_  true that she was bound to Brittany and Sam, and she resented them for it, resented that they were happy and she was miserable, but there was more, something that bubbled up in her stomach every time she so much as _looked_ at Brittany, this sick, twisting anger that she knew went far deeper than her human side, and went far deeper than she could even begin to understand, like somehow, she was born with it and it might never disappear. "I guess call me when Sam pulls his head out of his ass."

"I know you want this to happen, and so do I, but please, please don't do anything rash and get yourself hurt." Brittany told her quietly, caring for her well being even after another sharp sting of Quinn's rejection pierced her. "We won't ever find them if Hummel gets his proof first."

"I'm not stupid, but thanks for your concern."

Before Brittany could anything else, Quinn was gone, and she was left standing alone in the living room, Sam mad at her for wanting to go after the fourth alien, and Quinn mad at her for existing, she assumed. She knew her parents would be home soon, knew that she and Sam would sit done to family dinner with them and pretend that everything was fine, but she couldn't help but ache for the one place she wouldn't have to pretend, the one place that she felt  _normal,_ the place she couldn't believe that she'd gone without until such a short time ago. Knowing that across town, Santana had her window left open, that Santana was probably thinking about her in the same way she was thinking about Santana was the one thing that would get her through another few hours of that dreaded pretending.

* * *

"Santana, you're filthy!" Maribel Lopez called out as Santana walked through the door, making her feel like she was still five years old and dragging a bucket of worms through the diner. "Tell me you didn't go see Hummel looking like that. You know how important your image is in this town."

"I'm aware, Ma." Santana rolled her eyes, looking around at the singular customer who sat by the front window picking at his French fries, the New Mexico rain scaring the usual steady stream of people away. "And  _no,_ I didn't go down there like this, I went for a run afterwards, Coach Roz is riding us hard this year, and I need to keep up my stamina. We can't have any mistakes at Regionals, Albuquerque recruited two new fliers, so I'm basically going to live and breathe cheerleading until then."

"Being captain of a winning team will look great for college,  _mija._ University of Santa Fe has a great cheerleading squad. Make sure you tell your father if you need to get some of your shifts covered, he'll be thrilled to take care of it for you if it gets you one step closer to the dream."

"Of course." Santana controlled herself from rolling her eyes at her mother.  _The dream,_ not  _her_ dream, just another move in her father's ultimate goal for her. Attend his alma mater (their pennant had been placed above her crib before she was even  _born)_ major in business administration, come back to Roswell and die in the same town she'd been born in. Luckily, Santana had long ago learned how to manipulate her father's desires to her own benefit, and this was no exception. She didn't need extra cheerleading hours, there were no new fliers in Albuquerque, and her Cheerios were a shoe in for Regionals, and probably even Nationals, but she needed to set the stage for sudden time off if Brittany (after that kiss, she didn't feel the need to disguise her intentions by considering the others, she was in it for Brittany) needed her help in her fourth alien quest. Santana Lopez, one, Javier Lopez, zero. "I've got a bunch of homework tonight though, I'm going to shower and get started."

"Good idea, Nita." Maribel called her by her childhood nickname and kissed her cheek. "I'm about to leave for bowling with the girls, and I'll be home late. Have Noah make you something for dinner if you get hungry."

"Sounds good, I'll probably be asleep by the time you get in, so I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun."

Santana had barely made it into the back room of the diner before she ran into her father, who, understandably, had wanted to know how her meeting with Burt Hummel had gone. Giving him the barest of bones recap, after omitting all mentions of aliens, dead bodies and Brittany, he sent her on her way, and she took the stairs two at at time, eager to be away from questions and explanations, eager to just lay on her bed like a normal teenage girl, close her eyes, and squeal internally about being kissed by Brittany. It wasn't like her, not in the slightest, she usually kept a level head, she was usually mature for her age, and while she knew that what she and Brittany  _already_ shared was on some deep level that seemed to far surpass that reaction, the buzzing sensation that overtook her entire body had to be released in some way. If she'd kept a journal, she'd probably spend two hours writing down every detail about the impossible softness of Brittany's lips (they had to be entirely alien, there was no  _way_ there was anything human about them), the taste of her mouth, the way she held her so protectively, the way it felt like the entire world faded away, and when the kiss ended, she knew for sure that the rest of her life would be so different.

Once she'd showered, Santana did exactly that, sprawling out on her bed in short cheer shorts and a white camisole, leaving her hair down to dry naturally. When her phone rang, Santana grumbled at being interrupted from her thoughts. As she looked at the screen and saw that it was Mercedes, she made the split second decision to keep what had happened between her and Brittany to herself, at least until she (hopefully) came by later on, and they could (maybe) figure out what it all meant. Of course, Santana knew that there were bigger things to focus on,  _much_ bigger things. But with the taste of Brittany's lipgloss still on her lips (even though it really  _wasn_ _'_ _t_ still there, Santana swore she could still taste vanilla mint), she couldn't help but have this inexplicable feeling that maybe, just _maybe,_ this  _thing_ that was happening between her and Brittany, this pull, stronger every second, was somehow intrinsically tied to something far bigger than she could possibly understand.

"Did you talk to Brittany?" Mercedes asked, the instant Santana hit the  _answer_ button on her phone.

"Hello to you too, 'Ce."

"Please, I saw you like two hours ago. And I'm much more concerned with the life leeching  _thing_ than pleasantries."

"Don't call them that. We don't know what their motives were. If I've learned anything in this past week, is that  _nothing_ is so black and white."

"Wait, you're actually  _not_ freaked out about the  _dead bodies_ in the pictures? I mean, listen, I know it wasn't any of your aliens, or  _our_ aliens now, I guess, but that doesn't mean I want to share a milkshake with the  _other_ one."

"Hmm, so you  _do_ want to share a milkshake with one of  _ours?_ " Santana tried to tease. "Better be careful with who you choose, Lips might suck your whole face up right through the straw."

"I like his- no, don't distract me, this is serious. What did Brittany say about the fourth alien?"

"She wants to find them."

"What?" Mercedes screamed through the phone, causing Santana to pull it away from her ear quickly. "Does she want to get all of us killed? Hell no, Santana, this isn't what I signed up for! Do we at least get a vote? Because I vote  _absolutely fucking not."_

"It's not really  _our_ thing to vote on. And even if it was, my vote is with Brittany, she deserves to know where she came from, they all do."

"Seriously, did she also  _lobotomize_ you when she saved you? You are literally  _insane_ and possibly  _suicidal_ right now. You, a human, a  _waitress,_ with no magical powers or skills, thinks hunting down a murdering alien is a  _good idea?_ You  _know_ what Brittany did to you with one touch, and you actually want to see what's on the  _other_ end of that?"

"Obviously she's not going to let me get killed. You should have seen her when she thought Quinn was going to attack me."

" _Quinn_ was going to attack you?" Mercedes was on the very precipice of shrieking incoherently. "Remind me again why the  _hell_ I decided to be a part of this alien alliance."

"She wasn't, she was just going to slap me." Santana told Mercedes, as if being slapped by an alien was the most routine thing in the entire world, and she heard her friend suck her teeth, as if to say _like that's much better._ "And you agreed to be a part of this because you know they're the good guys."

"Yeah,  _they_ are, not Murdery McKillsalot."

"Stop. You don't know. Go ahead and google the '47 crash, and read about the sick accounts of  _aliens_ being tortured. Aliens like Brittany, like  _Sam,_ you don't know  _why_ the other one killed, okay? But I'm pretty damn sure the reason they did was to protect themselves, and maybe the defenseless  _kid_ aliens in their eggs, or whatever. Remember how old the Pierces and Quinn were when they started school with us. Do you really think it would have been okay if they got sliced open and experimented on?"

"No." Mercedes finally conceded after a long pause. "But that still doesn't mean I want to go  _looking_ for trouble."

"No one is asking you to, 'Cedes. But I'll tell you this right now, if they go, I'm going with them."

"You really are insane." Mercedes sighed, knowing that she'd never win that argument, knowing that even after such a short period of time, that her best friend was just as besotted with Brittany as Brittany was with her, and that when Santana set her mind to something, there would never be any talking her out of it. "And you know I'm not going to stand back and wait for you to get killed, so I guess all I can do is hope that they decide not to go."

"Well Brittany already made her decision, and since Quinn is the  _least_ human, you know how she'll vote, so really, unless your boy gives them a hard enough time, it's pretty much a given."

"He's not my  _boy."_ Santana could hear Mercedes' eye roll through the phone. "Do you think it's possible for a sixteen year old to get a will?"

"For what? You don't even own anything, I'm not sure it's really necessary."

"Oh, good, I'm glad  _that_ is the reason I don't need a will, thanks for all of your reassurance."

"I trust Brittany to keep me safe, but I'll tell you right now, I'm going to make damn sure she knows not to put herself in danger to protect me."

" _Lobotomy, I swear to sweet Jesus, this girl has lost her mind._ " Mercedes muttered, and it was Santana's turn to roll her eyes. " _Am I the only one with any common sense?"_

"Are you talking to me, or to God right now?"

"Both, maybe. You've got it so bad for that girl that I'm still pretty sure it's skewing your opinion on life."

"It has nothing to do with my feelings for Brittany. I know where I come from, you know where you come from, imagine you didn't. Imagine you knew  _nothing_ about why you were here, like you just woke up in a desert one day and somehow knew you were from another planet, but that was it."

"It would suck." Mercedes admitted.

"Exactly. And that's why I'm on Brittany's side, not because I...well, whatever it is I feel." Santana told Mercedes, not quite ready to admit the  _full_ extent of her feelings to her best friend, not even understanding the full extent of her feelings herself. Hearing a  _tap, tap, tap_ on the window from the balcony to her bedroom, Santana looked up, and a big grin split her face as she saw Brittany behind the glass, a sheepish half-smile playing on her lips. "Listen, I've gotta go, 'Cedes, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Why the hell do you have to go? And don't tell me homework, because I know that's the excuse you use when you need to get out of something your father wants you to do."

"It's not homework, it's just  _stuff,_ and really, hearing you tell me I'm insane all night isn't my idea of a good time. We'll talk tomorrow, when we know more."

"Fine, whatever, just try not to get killed between now and then."

"I'll work on that." Santana moved to open the window, and felt her heart speed up exponentially as she looked at Brittany, realizing that if that girl kept having such an effect on her, she could make no promises about  _not_ dying, because even without potentially murderous aliens and prying sheriffs, she might actually perish of a mundane heart attack from how her body reacted. "Night."

When the window was fully open, neither girl said anything for a few moments, just taking each other in. Standing there, just about in Santana's room, staring at the girl who was hardly dressed (Brittany  _definitely_ didn't look down at her boobs, definitely didn't notice that she wasn't wearing a bra, not at all), Brittany suddenly wasn't sure what to do. Sure, she'd kissed Santana earlier in the day, sure, she  _wanted_ to kiss Santana in that moment ( _want_ was probably not even a strong enough word to explain the desire Brittany felt,  _need_ was probably a closer choice,  _absolutely will die if I don't_ might have been the  _most_ accurate), but she wasn't sure what was okay. Before she could speak, or really even fully process what she planned on doing, Brittany felt Santana's lips on hers, opening her mouth, giving herself over fully to her alien girl. Though the angle was more than awkward, all but Brittany's head still outside the window, crouched low, poised to climb in, she took all Santana had to offer, sucking her tongue into her mouth, threading a hand through damp brunette hair, and once again feeling that sense of calm that she could find nowhere else.

"Hey." Santana mumbled against her lips, not really willing to let Brittany go, feeling like they'd been apart for years, rather than hours, as her lower belly burned, both inside and out.

"Hi." Brittany let out a small laugh, relishing in just how adorable, and sexy, so,  _so_ sexy Santana looked, all dressed for bed. She was desperately trying to keep her mind from going there, they'd only kissed for the first time mere hours earlier (had it really only been hours? It felt like an eternity), Brittany was  _insistent_ upon taking it slowly, giving Santana an opportunity for an out, if she changed her mind, and the thoughts of throwing the human girl down on her bed and ravishing her were definitely  _not_ compliant with that. "I hope it's still okay that I came over."

"Of course it is." Santana smiled, making Brittany feel like she'd been subjected to her own powers and melted into a puddle of molecules. "Come inside, sorry it's a little messy, I've just been sort of busy."

"I have a brother." Brittany shrugged. "This is nothing, I see no pizza crusts or soda cans, so..."

"It's even the alien boys then.  _Definitely_ glad I'm into girls."

"Yeah, I'm glad for that too."

"Can I get you anything? I can go downstairs and have Puck make something for us, or get some chips from the kitchen, or we can order pizza..." Santana rambled, awkwardly tossing some clothes in the hamper (she had  _invited_ Brittany to come, she thought,  _why_ hadn't she done this earlier instead of daydreaming?), wanting to make sure that Brittany felt completely comfortable in her bedroom.

"I'm good." She nodded, following her internal pull to reach out and take Santana's hand, to still her frantic cleaning motions and just to  _touch_ her. "Relax, I just...I wanted to see you, I'm not worried about food, or your dirty clothes."

"Well, I really didn't want you to see my panties for the first time on my floor. I mean, God, I'm just going to stop talking."

"Is it okay if I sit?" Brittany asked, trying to take Santana's mind off of her embarrassment, before she had to save her from a fire caused by the heat of her own (adorably) blushing face.

"Yeah, yeah, totally." Santana gestured to the bed, and when Brittany sat down, Santana let her eyes flicker briefly over to her desk chair, considering, before Brittany pat the spot next to her and gave Santana another small smile. Their legs were still a hair apart when she sat, but Santana swore she felt an electric current flowing into her, swore Brittany's body was pulling her in. "So…how did it go with Quinn and Sam?"

"Not great." She sighed, the slightest pout forming on her lips, a pout that Santana felt a barely controllable urge to kiss away. "They're both pissed at me right now. Sam is sulking in his room because he thinks it's dumb to go on a hunt, and Quinn is stalking Hummel."

"Why is she mad at you? She's not all over this idea?"

"No, she is, it's the first thing we've agreed on in a long time, she's just being Quinn, I guess."

"Britt." Santana furrowed her brow, the sadness in Brittany's eyes causing her actual physical pain. "I know that I don't know her, and that there's a whole story there, but I really hate that she makes you feel like crap."

"It's fine, I'm used to it."

"Being used to something doesn't make it suck any less." Santana glanced over to her desk at the stack of UNM brochures that her father had so  _thoughtfully_  placed there. "I'm here you know, if you ever want to talk about it. I know you said...but..."

"I know." Brittany smiled a little, reaching out to touch Santana's cheek. "How is it possible that I already can't remember what my life was like before you? Sorry, that was really cheesy and lame. Maybe Quinn was right about me acting like we're on  _Dawson's Creek_."

"Brittany, what are we doing?" Santana asked, her eyes swimming with confusion, a look that was mirrored perfectly in Brittany's.

"I honestly have no idea. I never imagined this was going to happen, that I was actually going to be able to kiss you, and that once I did, I wasn't going to be able to stay away from you, so I haven't really thought it all through."

"I want to  _be_ with you, I feel like I  _need_ to be with you, like you're under my skin and in my veins, and my body will spontaneously combust if I try to stay away. I'm not saying it to be cheesy, it's an actual  _physical_ need. But I'm so scared about what that means."

"I understand." Brittany's eyes darkened with a deep sadness, that fear that Santana was afraid of her creeping back up, and she slowly removed her fingers from Santana's cheek. Santana shook her head immediately, grabbing both of Brittany's hands in her own.

"No, no that's not what I mean at all. I'm not scared of you, or whatever being with you will bring, I'm willing to take all of that in a second if it means getting to be yours. I'm scared for  _you,_ I'm scared that you being with  _me,_ while Hummel thinks I'm hiding something about you, will get you hurt. I don't get to do anything low profile in this place, and you  _need_ to be low profile."

"Yeah, I know I do. I wish I could just throw all that away and walk through the hallways at school holding your hand, walk you to class, kiss you at your locker, meet you after your cheer practice, come into the diner and pick you up for dates, but you're right, I can't, and you deserve all those things."

"Those things mean  _shit_ to me, Britt. I'm not saying I  _don't_ want to be with you because of stupid high school crap, I'm saying that no matter what happens between us, we need to be careful. Just like you think your world isn't safe for me, I know that there are big parts of mine that aren't safe for  _you._ "

"So what so you want to do?" Brittany asked, confused by Santana's words, sort of confused by  _all_ of it, her feelings, her desires, her actual existence.

"I think we should just  _be,_ until we figure out how this is all going to work. I think whatever this is, what it's going to become between the two of us, is so much bigger than words and labels. It has to be, if I already feel this way about you and we hardly know each other."

"And we can still get to know each other in that human way, like you said last night?"

"I'd like nothing more than that." The corners of Santana's eyes crinkled in adoration of Brittany as she watched the other girl smile. She knew that no one else had ever asked Brittany those normal questions about herself, knew that Brittany herself had probably never thought of the answers, and in such a strong way, Santana wanted to change that.

"It's red." Brittany said quietly, and Santana's forehead scrunched in confusion. "My favorite color. You said it was something you wanted to learn about me."

"I did." Santana nodded. "I used to think my favorite was black, but now that I'm looking at you, I'm pretty sure that it's blue."

"I really want to kiss you right now. Now that we're just  _being,_ is that still okay?"

"Yeah." Santana inched closer to Brittany, their lips just a breath apart. "I think that's more than okay."

Again, when their lips touched, sparks ignited, but this time, Santana actually  _saw_ those brightly colored, foreign stars that her buzzing brain hadn't been able to process the first time. She wanted to open her eyes, to look into Brittany's, especially as she felt herself lying back on the bed, pulling Brittany down on top of her, but she couldn't force them to open. She was too preoccupied with the combined sensation of Brittany pervading every crevice of her very being, and those damn stars, so close, and in colors she didn't even know the names for. Santana needed to see more, needed to _feel_ more (because really, it was an intense synesthesia that she was experiencing, she  _felt_ those colors burning in every cell of her body, like they were trying to tell her something), and she couldn't help the desperate gasps she released as her hands snaked up the back of Brittany's shirt and she pulled her closer, closer, and the exposed skin of her stomach, where her own shirt had risen up, pressed against Brittany's, dragging her deeper into the sensations. She had never felt so turned on, and more that that, she'd never felt so  _alive_ as her hips canted up and the lips that were on Brittany's silently begged her to continue the sensations, continue touching her, continue letting her see this distant world. If kissing felt this good, she couldn't even begin to imagine the heights her body and mind would reach as things progressed.

Brittany's head was reeling for entirely  _different_ reasons as she found herself above Santana on her  _bed,_ this place that admittedly, she'd fantasized about on more than one occasion. She was surprised at herself at way she seemed to lose all sense of control, all sense of time, all sense of  _anything_ but the gorgeous creature below her. Her eyes remained open, just wanting to  _see_ everything, see the twitching nerves in Santana's blissfully closed eyelids, see the way her lips parted when Brittany pulled away from her mouth and left hard, sucking kisses on her neck, down to the hollow of her throat (forgetting about low profile, forgetting that she  _probably_ shouldn't leave marks on Santana's dark skin), see the way her whole body shuttered when Brittany traced her tongue along her jawline and captured her lips again. Santana was offering herself up, asking Brittany to take so much of her, and at the same time Brittany took, she gave in return, providing a part of herself in this strange sort of energy exchange.

As they continued to kiss, Santana began to feel as if she were on a frenetic mission, like every touch led her closer to some mysterious  _thing_ that she was chasing, something out there in those distant stars. Brittany was desperately trying to keep herself from going too far, desperately trying to listen to her self-prescribed rules, but now that this world, this absolutely stunning world was opened up before her, she wanted to take in every lady inch of it. Santana released a throaty whimper as Brittany's right hand traveled higher, higher up under her shirt, not quite grazing the underside of her breast but so,  _so_ close, and she was sure that her body was so very close to the edge, even with so very little touch, something that would have embarrassed her completely had she not been in such a state of reverie. When Brittany wove the fingers of her other hand through dark locks, cradling Santana's head, trying to get impossibly closer to her, the heel of her hand brushed Santana's cheek, and she froze in alarm as she felt burning skin beneath it.

"Santana." Brittany rasped out, her voice still thick with arousal even as she felt panic rise in her chest. "You're so hot."

"You too, Britt." Santana murmured, completely lost in at all, and trying to reconnect their mouths. "So hot."

"No, seriously." She slowly raised her body up off of Santana (eliciting a groan from the human girl at the loss of contact), and once she was in a sitting position, placed both of her palms on flaming cheeks. "Your skin feels like it's on fire, God."

"What?" Santana's eyes were still glazed over from the celestial snapshots she'd seen, and bringing the back of her hand to her forehead, she furrowed her brow. Brittany's heart raced, not sure if that was normal or not, and she grabbed the mostly full bottle of water off of Santana's nightstand, pressing it against swollen lips.

"Drink, please, just drink this."

"Brittany." Santana sat up, pressing her forehead against Brittany's, needing to feel the contact of her skin again."I'm fine, relax."

"Is this...is it normal to get hot like this?" Brittany asked, her own face flaming as she realized that she was basically admitting that she'd never actually even kissed anyone but Santana (though it wouldn't come as a shock at all, and if this was the effect of aliens making out with humans, it was probably a good idea that she  _hadn't._ )

" _Nothing_ is normal with you." She let out a small laugh, and Brittany couldn't help the scowl on her face, because it wasn't  _funny._

"I don't ever want to hurt you." Brittany whispered, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"You didn't, trust me, you didn't. I didn't even notice how hot I was, it was just everything was  _you_ , I felt like your essence crept inside my body, or something, and I could  _feel_ these stars, this whole galaxy, even, like I can't even explain it, but it wasn't just seeing them, and it was beautiful."

"You  _felt_ the stars?" Brittany asked, trying to verify that Santana wasn't still in some euphoric trance, and if she  _wasn't,_ it meant that they'd actually made a connection, one that she hadn't initiated, and one that transcended her own conscious memory.

"Yeah, like I was right there, like kissing you was transporting me to some..." Realization hit Santana before she spoke the words  _other world_ , and she gasped, eyes widening comically as Brittany's thoughts raced, trying to piece it all together. "Britt, do you think...?"

"I don't know, I have  _no_ idea. I have no memories of where I came from, so I don't know if you were  _actually_ seeing something deep inside of me, or if it's just this strange connection we have that's making you imagine it."

"It's not my imagination, I know that for sure. My body felt you, all you, like so much so that..." Santana blushed a little bit, embarrassed by how aroused she'd been, how  _close_ she'd been to coming just from kissing Brittany, and slightly uncomfortable as she shifted a little and felt for sure that she hadn't imagined  _that._ "But my mind was on some different dimension, I swear. What if I can see things that you can't remember? What if I can help you figure it all out?"

"Santana, stop." Brittany took the hands that went to cup her cheeks and held them tightly in hers. "You were just  _burning up_ , as much as I  _really_ love kissing you, and as much as I would  _love_ the added bonus to be you finding repressed memories from this place I come from, we need to just stop for a second and think about the consequences for  _you._ I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you at all."

"I'm  _fine."_ The whine in Santana's voice was evident, but Brittany didn't budge, even though she knew from where her forehead was still pressed to Santana's now cool one that she was right. "Look, I drank all of the water."

"I'm glad." Brittany told her, and Santana couldn't help but warm (in a very different kind if way) at how Brittany's sweet, tender care for her well being made her feel. "I'd probably feel better if you ate something too though. Isn't it  _feed a fever?_ "

"Really?" Santana rolled her eyes playfully, but when Brittany gave her a cute little half smile and a shrug, she felt her own smile grew, and she conceded. "I actually think it's  _starve a fever,_ but fine. Do you want some peanut butter and jelly? I'd rather just make that than go all the way down stairs and try to convince Puck that I'm  _so_ hungry I need two burgers."

"It's okay, you don't have to make me a sandwich."

"I make a  _pretty_ awesome PB&J. You'll totally be missing out if you don't take me up on this. I don't make this kind of offer to just anyone."

"Oh really?" Brittany laughed, appreciating the total normalcy and ease of conversation after something so intense. "Well in that case, do you have any hot sauce?"

"The Lopezes may have been in this town forever, but my mother is a first generation American. My Mexican grandmother would roll over in her grave if we  _didn't._ And trust me, this stuff will put that crap we have in the diner to shame."

"Then peanut butter and jelly sounds perfect." Brittany beamed, and even though they were taking a break from there intense make out session, Santana couldn't help but place a sweet kiss on Brittany's lips before turning and walking out of the room.

When Santana returned with two sandwiches, a bottle of hot sauce and a half gallon of water (mostly because she figured Brittany would feel better if she drank a whole bunch of it and proved that she'd really cooled down), Brittany was still sitting on the bed with her legs crossed beneath her, deep in thought. She couldn't understand  _how_ it was possible that Santana was seeing what she said she was seeing, but somehow she  _knew_ that it wasn't some kind of weird hallucination, she knew that it had to be real. What confused her the most though, beyond how a psychic connection formed without her knowledge or initiation, was that she actually  _had_ memories from some other life at all. Part of her had always believed that the purple lake, the sole image she had of this far off planet was something she'd fabricated in her mind to make her feel like she actually  _knew_ something, but if Santana was seeing something entirely different from the same place, then that couldn't actually be the case. Whether it was for a day, or for a full lifetime, she had actually  _been,_ in living form, in the place where she'd come from, and she had absolutely no idea what to make of that information.

"Are you okay?" Santana asked, setting the plates down on the bed and mirroring Brittany's position as she sat down.

"Yeah, I'm just really shocked, honestly. Seems like I've gotten a whole bunch of brand new information today, and I'm still not totally sure what to make of any of it." She sighed, crinkling her nose, which Santana really thought was the cutest thing in the entire world, every single time she did it. "You seeing things, knowing there's another alien, it just all sort of reaffirms that we must be here for some actual purpose, you know?"

"We're gonna figure it out, Britt. And now we have something else that might be able to help."

"Santana." Brittany placed a hand over hers. "I appreciate it, so much that you want to help me, but I don't want you to feel like I'd ever kiss you just for information. I mean, not that I didn't really,  _really_ enjoy that, but..."

"Hey, I don't feel that way at all. I'm offering, and seriously, we get to make out  _and_ find out about your home planet? I think that's the greatest win-win of all time."

"You're the cutest person in the entire world." Brittany couldn't help but gush, and in the back of her mind, she kept hearing the worlds  _I love you_ repeat over and over again. "And when you put it that way, how could I possibly say no?"

"You obviously can't."

"But not tonight." Santana pouted a little, and Brittany couldn't help but put the back of her hand to her forehead, making sure she'd cooled down, and knowing that as much as she wanted to kiss Santana, for more than one reason, she needed some time to think, needed some time to convince herself that even though the girl's skin had gotten so hot, their activities wouldn't turn her into a pile of ashes. "But we could continue our getting to know you conversations, if you wanted, since there's really nothing we can do about everything else tonight, and it would be nice to sort of not think about it for a little while."

"I'd like that a lot, Brittany. Even though we're just  _being,_ and doing things all kinds of out of order, I think peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and talking is a pretty awesome first date."


	7. Black Sands and Break-In Plans

It was late in the night when Brittany left her first "date" with Santana, and she felt like the rest of the world had just melted away in the time she'd spent spread out on that goddess of a human girl's bed (maybe Quinn was right, maybe she  _was_ moony over her). They'd just talked for hours, with Santana occasionally trying to turn the innocent kisses she'd place on Brittany's lips into something more, and Brittany had to muster every ounce of will power to prevent that from happening, to prevent  _anything_ that would hurt Santana, at least until she was  _positive_ that she'd be able to pull away in the midst if something wasn't right. So instead of learning about far off galaxies and rainbow stars, they learned about each other, leaving Brittany feeling all kinds of warm inside.

With the exception of her extra terrestrial counterparts, Brittany had never had a friend, let alone a  _Santana,_ whatever she was, in their unlabeled state, so it was all so new to her, actually sitting and _talking_ to someone the way she could talk to Santana. She smiled and she laughed, and she relished in hearing Santana talk about her most embarrassing moment (getting stung by a wasp in the shower and running down into the diner in nothing but a towel, yelling for her father), her favorite movie ( _The Princess Diaries,_ but if anyone asks, it's totally  _Leprechaun_ ), the fact that she thinks tomatoes are disgusting, but she  _loves_ pizza. In turn, Brittany shared her  _own_ self, the self that she never felt like she could express while she was attempting to diminish her humanness. She shared that she had once spent an entire week of summer locked in her room reading all of the  _Harry Potter_ books in one shot (Santana was  _shocked_ that she hadn't read them before the seventh book was published), that she'd really believed that human babies were delivered by a giant white bird, until she was embarrassed in Mr. Brandt's health class in ninth grade (and she finally stopped believing everything she'd learned on the  _Woody Woodpecker_ cartoons she still sometimes watched with her father), that her favorite thing to do when no one was around was dance in her underwear. The whole time, Santana played with Brittany's fingers, and Brittany was content to watch the range of expressions that came over the girl's face, the way her nose crinkled, the way her dimples popped, the way she sometimes dropped Brittany's hand to use both of hers to emphasize a point. Although Brittany had never been on a date before, she was  _positive_ that no matter how simple her first with Santana's was, it was the greatest date in the history of all dates.

The day after was hard, no,  _beyond_ hard, on Brittany, having to pretend in the hallways at school that Santana was just another girl, having to control the looks she sent in her direction, having to anchor herself to her locker at one point to keep from flouncing across the hallway and planting a kiss on the pouty lips that chided Mercedes and shot teasing insults at her cousin Noah. Unbeknownst to the alien girl, Santana was having the same struggle, possibly amplified, as the scarf she wore on that warm September New Mexico day was  _not_ solely an accessory. No, it served to hide the marks a certain blonde had left behind the night before, marks that seemed to burn like a signal flare every single time Brittany was in close proximity to her (which, considering their school was small, and considering they shared five out of eight classes together, seemed to be a constant occurrence). So badly, Santana wanted to drag Brittany into the janitor's closet, wanted to feel that strange _completeness_ that mysteriously overcame her each and every time she touched Brittany, wanted to breathe in the smell of her shampoo, wanted to taste her lips all day, everyday, wanted to see that far off world and help Brittany find her answers, wanted to just  _talk_ to her, for hours on end, but instead, she had to settle for surreptitious waves and winks, until they could be alone together again.

During sixth period, Santana received a text message (from, as she'd changed the name in her phone,  _My Favorite Martian)_ letting her know that Brittany, Sam and Quinn were meeting to discuss their plan of action, and that she and Mercedes were invited, if they wanted to come. Immediately, Santana responded to the message, telling Brittany that  _of course_ she would be there. After showing it to Mercedes, who was sitting next to her, frantically taking notes on Kate Chopin's  _The Awakening,_ she was met with an eye roll, but also a nod, coming to a silent agreement that since Santana didn't have cheer practice, they'd leave school immediately after last period, and Mercedes would drive them out to meet the others in the desert.

* * *

"Hi." Santana mouthed to Brittany, who was sitting on the hood of her Prius, when they made it to the spot ten miles outside of town.

"Hey." Brittany mouthed back, her brain unable to stop the corners of her lips from curling up into a smile as Santana took a seat beside her.

"This is not the goddamn Holiday Inn." Quinn hissed, catching the interaction between the two. "Can you save your eye fucking for  _after_ we come up with a plan? Everything takes forty times as long when-"

"You waste time being a bitch to everyone?" Mercedes cut her off, and Santana covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide the fact that she was laughing.

"You can leave if you want,  _I'm_ not the one who invited you here."

"Shut up, Quinn." Sam stepped over to Mercedes and tentatively put a hand on her forearm. "Just start with what you found at Hummel's last night."

"Nothing. I found  _nothing,_ that's the problem. He sat in his office the entire time, doing  _actual_ police work, but if I could get in there, instead of crouching outside the window and staring at my reflection in his bald head, maybe we'd actually get somewhere."

"We still haven't made a decision if we're actually trying to get there." Sam reminded her, huffing in irritation.

"Oh, we are. I'm not being outvoted on this one. For once, Brittany is voting with me, and even if we  _have to_ count human votes, we all know who Santana is voting with, so even if you get Mercedes on your side, we still win,  _ha!"_

"What are you, seven years old, Quinn? Are we voting for what game to play on the playground? These are our  _lives!_ Why can't either of you see that?" Sam shook his head, and at the mention of lives at risk, Brittany's fingers danced along the hood of the car, searching for a smaller hand, the one that rested with an open palm behind her back, out of the view of the others, just  _waiting_ for her. At the contact, Santana curled her hand around twitching fingers, sucked her lips into her mouth, and tried to keep the burning on the side of her neck at bay.

"Sam." Brittany said softly, hating the way she felt like she was betraying her brother, even though she  _knew_ finding this being was the smart choice, the  _right_ choice for all of them. Santana's thumb stroked the back of her hand and up her wrist, and she felt grateful,  _so_ grateful that someone actually understood her and what she was going through, without needing words. "You know I don't take risks if they aren't for something I really,  _truly_ believe in, I think that having Santana and Mercedes here right now sort of proves that. I don't want to put us in danger, but there might be answers out there, answers that we  _really_ need to know."

"Britt, I get that, I do, but I don't know how I can agree that something like this is a good idea."

"Is it okay if I say something?" Santana asked, looking to Brittany first, who nodded (with a secret hand squeeze), then to Sam, who sighed, before agreeing. "Okay look, I know 'Cedes and I are part of this now, or whatever, but what we have to say  _doesn't_ really matter, because at the end of the day, no matter what happens, it effects your lives  _so_ much more than ours. I know you don't know us all that well, but we, or, I guess I shouldn't speak for you, 'Ce,  _I_ care about you, and I really haven't stopped thinking about this, so I'm gonna say what I've gotta say anyway.  _Hummel_ has been searching for this alien for years,  _Hummel_ thinks they're a murderer, and okay, so yeah, there are handprints on corpses, I get that doesn't look good, but Hummel also thinks that  _Brittany_ is a murderer, so I don't really trust his judgement. Who's to say they didn't have a damn good reason to kill those people, or that they weren't trying to kill them at all?  _You guys_ are alive, and they're probably to thank for it. And what if-" Santana got really quiet, looking at Brittany out of the corner of her eye, Brittany, who's hand felt so warm in hers, Brittany, who made her feel things that she _never,_ in her wildest dreams, imagined she could feel. "What if something  _happens_ to one of you? If you get sick, or hurt, or whatever, you don't even know how your bodies will react, what happens then? What happens when it's too late to find them to help?"

There was a strange, crackling silence in the air after Santana finished speaking, and she suddenly felt like she'd maybe  _seriously_ overstepped her bounds. Although she knew that Brittany and Quinn were desperate to find the elusive fourth alien, maybe they wouldn't appreciate her giving weird, heartfelt speeches on something that didn't really concern her. But Brittany hadn't let go of her hand, and Santana still felt the burning sensation in the welts on her neck, so she figured  _that_ was probably a good thing.

"Making a decision on a  _what if_ sounds ridiculous to me." Sam said finally, but even as he spoke the words, he knew that the choice he was against  _was_ the right one, knew that venturing into dangerous territory might actually save them from  _further_ danger down the line. "If we do this, we're not going in half-cocked and unprepared,  _Quinn._ No rash moves."

"Thank you, Sam." Brittany gave him a half-smile, and Sam just shrugged, wishing there was any other choice that could have been made, and though Quinn had always said that Brittany was the most human of them all, Sam realized that maybe that wasn't true at all. While Brittany had always wanted to be human, mostly because she wanted  _Santana,_ Sam had wanted to be human for the sake of being  _human._ He wanted to be on the football team, to play the guitar, to  _stand out_ like an All American boy, rather than hiding secrets and flying under the radar.

"Mercedes." Sam looked at her, thinking that although she wouldn't be his sole reason for choosing humanity, she'd definitely be a part of it. "You can walk away from all this if you want to, no one here will think less of you."

"Look, I think you all are fifty shades of  _crazy_ , and we'll all probably end up getting our asses killed." Mercedes shook her head, brushing off the images that she'd seen in Hummel's office, her own face replacing another. "But I'm already too involved. If shit goes down, I'd rather be close to the ones I know will protect me. I really, really hope you're right, Santana, about Hummel being mistaken."

"I think we can  _all_ agree on that." Brittany squeezed Santana's hand behind her back again, and Santana gave Mercedes a tight lipped smile. Having told Brittany, and then Sam that it was a smart choice,  _she_ was hoping, more than  _anyone_ that she was right, or else  _she_ was more than a little bit responsible for leading them all to their doom. "So I guess now we should talk about our plan to get more information out of the Sheriff's office."

"We need to get him  _out_ of there first. He's constantly at the station." Quinn pointed out. "I'm pretty sure he sleeps there."

They spent a good amount of time going back and forth, trying to come up with ways to lure Hummel away. Most involved fires, or breaking and entering other buildings, all of which, Brittany was quick to dismiss. While she was willing to go after an  _alien,_ partaking in  _human_ crime, especially the type where there was a likelihood of someone getting hurt, was the last thing she wanted to do. By the time they were an hour in, and had made absolutely  _no_ progress, Quinn was kicking rocks, threatening to blind the man and burn down the  _police station_ if she had to (and then kicked a rock right at Sam's shin when he pointed out that they wouldn't get any information if she destroyed it all). Finally, it was Mercedes _,_ who'd been convinced she had nothing to contribute to the discussion, who had a sudden revelation.

"Wait a second! There is  _one_ thing that matters more to Hummel than validating his father!" She shouted, causing everyone to freeze and look at her. "Kurt!"

"So we're going to kill Kurt?" Quinn asked, gears turning in her head, calculating whether of not that would even do anything to benefit them.

"Okay, can I just point out for a second that we had a whole discussion about bring afraid of the murderous  _fourth alien,_ but we have  _Quinn_ here, who's suggested bodily harm on more than one occasion?" Mercedes gave her a pointed look, and Sam couldn't help but laugh out loud, while Santana and Brittany, still seated on the hood of the car (but temporarily  _not_ holding hands) actually attempted to hide it. "No! Not kill him! Santana, don't you gave a cheerleading competition in Artesia tomorrow?"

"Yeah, 'Ce, I asked you to cover my afternoon shift at the diner like, three weeks ago. What's that have to do with anything?"

"Hummel  _never_ misses Kurt's cheerleading stuff! That's like a thirty-five minute drive from here, plus the time of the competition."

"So that gives us  _at least_  two hours to get in, find what we can and get out." Brittany finished excitedly. "Mercedes, that's perfect."

"Okay, wait, wait, wait." Quinn scowled. "You really think this guy is going to  _leave town_ in the middle of his investigation of Brittany and leave all his files behind? He's not an idiot."

"No, you're right, he's not." Santana rolled her eyes. "But he's also not a shitty dad, and even when they found that body, you know, the guy who killed himself, but everyone was convinced was murdered, he stayed overnight in Las Cruces for Regionals last year because he didn't want to let Kurt down. And there's no way he'll take everything with him, because as far as he's concerned, they're safer behind the iron bars of the station than anywhere else."

"Which would be true, if he wasn't up against the ability to manipulate molecular structure." Sam smiled a genuine smile for the first time since they'd begun discussing the plan.

"And I'll be there, so I can keep my eye on him, and report back if, for any reason, he leaves." Santana hopped up off the hood of the car, catching her scarf on the windshield wiper.

All went silent, and three sets of eyes were on Santana as she stood there, making her feel extremely uncomfortable. She hadn't realized why they all were staring, the reason for her scarf momentarily forgotten as she got caught up in the excitement of the formulation of an actual plan, and when she turned to look quizzically at Brittany, she was met with wide eyes and a red face.

"What?" Santana asked, and slowly, Brittany brought her fingers up to her own neck, signaling silently about what everyone was staring at. When Santana looked down, she gasped, the bruising that had been present in the morning gone, replaced by bright, glowing marks, actually  _emitting_ the signal Santana felt inside of her. "Oh. Fuck."

"Oh my God, Santana." Brittany jumped to her feet in a flash, once she'd processed what she was looking at, momentarily ignoring the other's reaction to the unmistakeable giveaway that she'd gone to town on Santana's neck. Instead, she focused on the dark haired girl before her, focused on the fact that the last time she'd left glowing marks, it was a result of her healing,  _not_ her maiming. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't...they weren't...this morning, they were just regular ones." Santana whispered, trying to hide herself from the scrutinizing glares that she was being subjected to, while simultaneously feeling _totally_ weirded out that her hickeys were  _glowing._ "Britt, they're all staring at us."

"Can we just, have a minute, or something, please?" Brittany tore her eyes from Santana to look at her brother, who was dragging his toe in the dirt, trying to act like he wasn't staring, at Mercedes, with a hand was firmly planted on her hip, and a  _take no bullshit_ look on her face, and Quinn, who Brittany was pretty sure had cartoon steam coming out of her ears (maybe there  _was_ some accuracy to those  _Woody Woodpecker_ cartoons)

"It was only a matter of fucking time." Quinn snipped, sort of under her breath. "Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous."

"Quinn-" Sam started.

"No, she needs to explain  _right now._  Her girlfriend is walking around sporting flashing neon  _I'm Fucking An Alien_ signs. This is fan-fucking-tastic."

"You know what, Quinn, I don't have to explain  _anything._ " Brittany uncharacteristically snapped. "You think I should have told you that Santana and I kissed? Or that I was over her house last night,  _not fucking,_ just for the record, so you can make me feel like crap about it? No. I asked for a minute, so just back off and give us a damn minute."

Stunned, Quinn opened and closed her mouth several times before turning away, the rock a few feet ahead of her shattering into a thousand pieces. She was seething, and ordinarily, Brittany would seek to calm her down, but she couldn't be bothered by the melodramatics, couldn't really be bothered by anything other that the fact that her  _not-girlfriend_ was glowing, and that she couldn't help but feel that same glow, only deep within her chest. Carefully, Brittany brought her hand up to Santana's neck, surprised that she couldn't feel the marks, and even more surprised when, feeling brazen, Santana pressed the quickest kiss to her lips.

"I've been waiting to do that all day." She murmured, getting lost in blue eyes, momentarily forgetting that their very,  _very_ new secret had just been revealed to those that each of them held dearest.

"I'm glad you did." Brittany smiled, tucking a stray hair behind Santana's ear, and letting her fingers dance over the muted silver glow. "I'm so sorry that I got carried away last night. Do they hurt?"

"Not really. They just, I don't know, burn, or something, when you're close by, it's the weirdest thing ever, and sort of a  _huge_ distraction at school."

"I can, maybe..." Brittany waved her hand over the area to indicate healing, all the while thinking that the sensation Santana described was  _exactly_ the one she got in her chest whenever they were remotely close together.

"Yeah." Her voice was indecisive, because if she was telling the truth, she sort of, maybe,  _really_ didn't mind so much that they were there, but then shook that off and nodded firmly. "Yeah, yeah, you should, if you can. Quinn's probably right about the flashing neon sign, anyway. This is the exact opposite of laying low."

* * *

"This is the most awkward conversation I've ever witnessed." Sam said quietly to Mercedes, because as low as they believed they were speaking, everyone but Quinn, who was exploding every rock in her path, could hear them. "And this is coming from me."

"It's sort of sweet. I still think Santana has lost her damn mind, but they're kind of cute together."

"Quinn's going to absolutely lose her shit. This is her biggest fear come true."

"Brittany hooking up with Santana? What, does she have a thing for her or something?"

"For Brittany? No, absolutely  _not._ We're all, related, or something like that, and it would be disgusting, all that blonde. She's just been watching Britt moon over Santana forever, and I think it's the same reason why she never wanted any of us to get too  _human._ If we do, and we find a way home, we'll be a lot less likely to leave, having something here that matters to us to leave behind."

" _Oh."_ Mercedes pursed her lips, looking at her best friend, looking at the way  _she_ looked at Brittany, like she'd created the whole damn universe, and trying not to feel unbelievably sad for her as she came to the realization that this alien hunt, the one that she fought so vehemently for, might rip her heart straight from her chest- and  _not_ by means of evil murderous alien talons.

"Honestly though, I think it was already too late for that."

"You don't think she'd get on a rocket ship, or a UFO, or a magic cloud and leave this whole world, the hiding, the  _sheriff_ and all of it behind?"

"No. I think she's way too human, and I  _know_ she's head over heels in love with that girl."

"And what about you?" Mercedes asked, hoping, against her best judgement, that  _maybe_ this weird alien magic could work on someone else besides Brittany and Santana.

"I think maybe I'm the most human of all."

* * *

"I'm not even sure this is going to work, I've never had to heal something that  _I've_ done."

"Brittany, please stop saying it like you hurt me." Santana pleaded, looking into her eyes and smiling, taking Brittany's hand in her own and guiding it back to her throat. "If it wasn't for the rest of the world, and for you being in danger, I'd totally let these things run their course. Guess you'll have to be more careful though next time,  _if_ you stop trying to take my temperature and keep on making out with me."

"I just want you safe." Brittany shrugged sheepishly. "I'd never forgive myself if I let something happen to you."

"So I've heard, a few dozen times." Santana teased, poking her alien in the ribs. "I hope you know though, that I feel the safest when I'm with you, even if you're  _maybe_ the most exciting, most dangerous thing that's ever happened to me."

"I'm not really sure what to say to that, honestly."

"Nothing, you can just kiss me, if you want."

Forgetting even further about her surroundings, Brittany met Santana's lips with her own, starting softly, just letting their lips meld together, ignoring Santana's persistent urge to deepen it. When she finally opened her mouth, she couldn't help but let a squeak escape as Santana just  _barely_ brushed the tip of her tongue with her own. Almost involuntarily, Brittany felt tingles in her hand, felt her fingers working to heal marred flesh, quickly swallowing the sound of Santana's soft moan as the girl was overtaken by the power of their connection. She knew Santana was seeing things again, knew that she wouldn't want to break apart, but the clearing of Sam's throat and the coolness of her fingertips when the healing was through snapped her back to reality, and she reluctantly pulled away from Santana.

"So how about them Cowboys?" Santana vaguely registered Sam joking, but she was too dazed by the reappearance of rainbow stars, seemingly closer than the last time, and about a thousand times more vivid, even with such a brief kiss.

"They're gone." Brittany marveled, her fingers ghosting over the skin where her glowing marks had been.

"It doesn't feel like they are. I saw more stars." Santana mouthed,  _really_ not wanting anyone else to know about that, before Brittany was ready to tell them. Almost as if Brittany was reading her thoughts, she nodded and pressed a finger to her lips.

"Not until we know more. I don't...I don't want Quinn to know, and think that I should use you for that purpose alone."

"Well I really like kissing you, so I'm not sure it totally counts as using."

"I know, but still, this is all really new, and I just want it to be about us, okay?"

"Okay." Santana nodded, smiling at her girl (or not her girl, whatever they were- or weren't). "So I guess we have to face the music now."

"You two  _are_ aware that you were basically just making out in front of us, right?" Mercedes called out, and Santana turned around, keeping one hand on Brittany's, and setting the other on her hip.

"Well we figured since we'd already been called out on our  _previous_ activities, we didn't really have to hide it."

"Santana, I think you're actively trying to get exploded by Quinn." The second human gestured over to the still angry blonde, and Santana rolled her eyes, but instinctively moved closer to Brittany.

"She's harmless. Just let her blow up a few hundred more rocks, then come yell at Brittany, and probably me, because I'm not mad about it, then let her go spy on Hummel and she'll be perfectly fine." Sam reassured Mercedes (and, by default, Santana, who actually  _wasn't_ all that concerned in the first place).

"You're not mad?" Brittany couldn't fight the smile that formed on her face at her brother's words, and Sam looked at her like she was absolutely insane.

"Really, Britt, you've been staring at Santana for-" He was cut off with a rock kicked in his direction and a glare, but Santana just snuggled further into Brittany, thinking she was the sweetest thing in the entire universe, and still sort of shocked that she'd been completely oblivious to something that now seemed  _so_ painfully obvious.

" _I_ am mad." Mercedes cocked an eyebrow at Santana, but the barely there smile playing on her lips gave away that she wasn't actually mad, and she understood  _why_ there had been a wariness about making any kind of announcement. "You call me to whine when you get a  _hangnail,_ but you get a  _girlfriend_ and your best friend is the last to know?"

"We're not actually... _girlfriends."_ Santana bit her bottom lip and caught the wrinkle of Brittany's nose beside her. "Right now, we're just  _being,_ or whatever."

"Okay, did you change your name to Rain travel in your time machine to the sixties? What does  _being_ even mean? Staring at each other and getting magical hickeys? Sounds a lot like girlfriends to me."

"'Cedes, it's complicated, alright?" Santana frowned, because really it  _wasn't_ all that complicated, she cared about Brittany (more than that even, though she was trying to push those thoughts to the side, because how was that even  _possible_ after such a short time?), they'd had their "date," they were getting to know each other, and  _definitely_ would be doing a lot of making out (and more, totally more) in the future, it was just mostly Brittany's safety that was really keeping them from more than  _being._

"Really? Doesn't look to complicated to me, you practically just swallowed her head."

"I think only  _one_ person in this vicinity capable of head swallowing, I'm sorry,  _so_ wanky." Santana looked pointedly at Sam, and actually made herself laugh at the unexpected innuendo. "Think about if for a second, I  _didn't_ die in the diner, Hummel thinks Brittany has something to do with it, then suddenly we're out in public together?"

"Oh. Right."

"Yeah." Santana let her thumb circle over the back of Brittany's hand, really  _not_ proving the  _not-girlfriends_ thing, but she didn't really care, labels weren't a big deal to her, she knew where her heart was, and that's what mattered the most.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Rain and Sunshine, on your  _being_." Sam tried to joke, just as a particularly large explosion erupted three-hundred feet in the distance. "And  _she_ worries about  _us_ drawing attention."

"She'll get over it." Brittany reiterated Sam's earlier words for her own personal reassurance. "Getting to go through Hummel's stuff tomorrow will be dually beneficial, breaking and entering is basically her favorite thing to do."

"That makes me feel  _all_ warm and fuzzy inside." Mercedes quipped.

"She's not allowed to break into your house, we made sure of that." Sam promised.

"Listen, guys, I don't mean to cut this short, but I've got to work in an hour, and my bus leaves tomorrow morning at five-thirty. 'Cedes, do you mind dropping me off?"

"I can actually do it, if you want." Brittany told her softly, and Santana immediately grinned, not wanting to ask, but  _really_ wanting the ten minutes of alone time with her alien girl. "If you don't mind, Mercedes, taking Sam and Quinn home."

"No problem. But Santana, I expect your ass to call me later on."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever I'll call you, but unless you're coming with gallons of coffee for me in the morning, I'm not staying on the phone all night."

"Sam, if she doesn't stop making craters in the ground, leave her here, and I'll drive back out and handle it later." Brittany scowled.

"She'll come." Sam shook his head. "The last thing I want is for you two out here alone right now."

"Thank you. For this, and for before."

"It is what it is." He shrugged. "I'll see you at home."

Saying her final goodbyes to Mercedes and Sam (promising Mercedes that she'd call, promising Sam that she'd keep both eyes fully on a Hummel at the competition, though he hadn't asked her to make that promise), Santana was eager to get in the car, and eager to gauge just how Brittany was feeling about the entirety of the situation, the fourth alien, the end of Sam's descent, the announcement of their  _whatever,_ Quinn being Quinn. It was strange though, how immediately after she buckled her seatbelt, all of those thoughts quieted, and she just fell into thirty seconds of contentment as she breathed the same air as the blonde, and still, somehow, felt that burning in her neck and abdomen, like both faded marks of Brittany remained imprinted deep within her.

"Well, I guess we failed pretty majorly at keeping that a secret. I mean, I didn't really care about keeping it from them, I just didn't want-"

"Quinn reacts that way if I tell her my last class ran late, it's just how she is." Brittany interrupted, looking over as Santana flipped down the mirror to check her neck again, as if she didn't believe she had really been healed. "I don't want you to worry about it."

"I'm not, I'm just worried about  _you._ I know you don't like that she fights with you all the time..."

"You don't have to be worried." Brittany took Santana's hand and smiled. "I  _think,_ maybe, we have  _real_ stuff to worry about, that's way more important than one of Quinn's hissy fits. I wish I could go to the competition tomorrow."

"It's okay, Britt, I don't think he'll bother me there, not with my parents, and Kurt, and crazy Coach Roz around. You've gotta be here to help Quinn and Sam."

"Oh." Brittany's cheeks heated, realizing that her initial desire to go hadn't been to watch out for Santana, she knew that there were certain things about simply  _being_ Santana Lopez that protected her from Hummel's public inquiry, that she was in some ways saf _er_ around Hummel without her. "I..."

"Britt." Santana pursed her lips, looking at Brittany with utter adoration once she realized what she meant. "I wish you could be there too."

"It's stupid, I know. I just, I used to sit and watch you at football games and stuff, not in a creepy way or anything, just in a  _I have a major crush on the sexy head cheerleader_ kind of way.

" _Dreaming 'bout the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time?"_ Santana sang, surprising Brittany with how beautiful her voice was, and making Santana blush furiously when she realized what she'd sang. "Oh my God, I'm such a dork. I'm sorry,  _that_ should have been one of my embarrassing confessions to you, that I own more than one Taylor Swift album."

"Your voice is really pretty." Brittany blurted out. "And I think there are way worse circumstances to sing Taylor Swift than right now."

"You're probably right." Santana laughed, and played with Brittany's fingers. "Tomorrow is a lame competition though, I promise, you'll get to see me at a much better one, once Hummel realizes this is just a ridiculous witch hunt, and moves on to assuming someone else is one of the Roswell aliens."

"I hope so. Please be careful though, okay?"

"I'm more worried about you, Brittany. If you get caught..." They both turned serious, their previous joking quickly forgotten as the gravity of what was to happen in less than twenty-four hours hit them simultaneously. Thought Hummel would be far from his office, though Santana would send a warning if he was headed back, what they were doing was beyond dangerous, and to get caught, any one of the three aliens, would spell complete disaster.

"I won't. As rash as Quinn can be, she's actually a meticulous planner, and we'll disable the cameras, get in, get the information, and be out of there before the deputy can ever stand up from his desk."

"Will you...will you call me as soon as you're done?" Santana looked down, feeling ridiculous that she was already turning into  _that_ girl, approximately five seconds after her and Brittany became a thing, or  _not_ a thing, whatever. All the insistence on  _not-girlfriends_ and  _just being_ didn't change what her heart was saying, that Brittany belonged to her, that she belonged to Brittany, that whatever this otherworldly pull that they felt toward each other was went so far beyond explanation with words in the English language, or  _really,_ words in  _any_ human language, and she would worry herself  _sick_ for as long as there was any type of danger to Brittany.

"Of course I will." Brittany promised, instinctively bringing Santana's hands up and kissing the inside of her wrist, a gesture so new, yet somehow so familiar. "But we'll be so fast, that you'll probably still be in the middle of your routine."

"I hope so. I just want you to be safe."

"I know, and I will. Tomorrow night, once it's all over, and we've all reconvened on what we've found, maybe you and I could go for a drive somewhere, like our second date or something."

"That sounds really, really good." Santana exhaled sharply, trying to stop the pinching anxiety about the whole thing from overtaking her. She was the biggest proponent of doing what it took to find the fourth alien, she just wished that she knew, without any doubts, that Brittany wouldn't be in any danger in the process.

They were silent for a long while, both girls caught up in their thoughts about it, and when Santana looked up again, they were pulling in to the alley behind the diner, and they both sat there for several more minutes, Santana reluctant to get out of the car, and Brittany reluctant to let her. Finally, it was Santana who leaned over the console and caught Brittany's lips with her own, taking her by surprise (although she probably should have  _expected_ the kiss, because why  _wouldn't_ Santana kiss her). Immediately caught up by the electrical current that crackled under her skin as Santana cupped her cheek and drew her further in, Brittany tugged dark hair free of the confining ponytail, twisting it through her long fingers and fighting the whimper that threatened to escape from her throat.

Santana sighed into the kiss, feeling the sharp pricks at the base of her skull, signaling that she was about to be overtaken by the visions she could only assume came from deep within Brittany. She saw the stars first, so close, they were burning into her, before they faded off into the distance, and she found herself in the middle of a vast expanse of jet black sand, surrounded by nothingness, the only thing before her the deep, auburn clouds that hung low in the sky. Her body, so physically in tune with Brittany's motions, the way her hand snaked up the back of her shirt, pressing into the small of her back, the way the other pulled gently on her hair, causing Santana to moan out loud, the way their lips seemed to fuse together, tongue brushing, teeth clacking with harsh urgency seemed to be at such a disconnect with her mind, off on some other planet, giving a brand new meaning to the phrase  _on cloud nine._

Mind-Santana ached to explore the uncharted landscape that spread out before her, and she wasn't sure how it was even possible that she could wander around in Brittany's mind like it was an actual, physical dimension, but then again, the fact that she was actually  _seeing_ inside of her like that was mind blowing enough. She could actually feel the silken sand beneath her feet and the thick, almost solid yellow air that enveloped her, and she spun in circles, searching for something, anything, that might help her help Brittany to understand where she came from. At the end of her fourth rotation, when Santana was surprised she felt no dizziness (until the hard suck Brittany gave to her bottom lip reminded her that she wasn't actually spinning), she saw a huddled mass in the distance. Though she couldn't make out individual forms, Santana could tell there were several  _beings,_ beings with distinct bodily features, humanlike, but not, and she itched to get closer, itched to know who they were ( _was one of them Brittany, in her original form? could she possibly recall herself in the third person?)._ When Santana took two steps in their direction, she was suddenly hit full force with indescribable sadness, waves of grief coursing over her with enough force to bring her to her metaphorical knees. Just as she thought she'd truly collapse, feeling more empathy for the creatures in the distance that she'd ever felt for any on Earth, she felt herself suddenly sucked out of that world, the sharp pinch of devastation feeling, almost, immediately, like a long forgotten memory as she open her eyes and stared straight into Brittany's crystal blue. Brittany's face was full of concern, and feeling the wet, salty trails on her own cheeks made her realize that she'd actually been brought to tears by what she'd experienced.

"Holy shit." Santana exhaled, fisting Brittany's shirt with both hands and kissing her softly, spurred on by the urge to feel lips against lips, the urge to remind herself that what she'd seen wasn't real, or, wasn't the present.

"Santana, what happened? What did you see?"

"I was  _there,_ I saw it all, the black sand, and yellow sky, and these deep, blood red clouds. I swear, I was breathing in the air from your planet and then..."

"You're crying." Brittany wiped the tear streaks from Santana's cheeks, telling the girl, who was sort of trembling in her arms, something she'd already known.

"I don't...I don't know  _why._ I didn't  _see_ anything, but I  _felt_ it. I felt it like it was happening to me, here were these beings, off in the distance, and their grief, it was like this terrible wall that kept me from getting closer to them. I've  _never_ felt anything as sad as that."

"Oh, Santana. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you had to feel that. I wish I could kiss you without your body feeling like it's about to burst into flames, or you crying because there's this crazy sadness in my past."

"No, Britt, don't wish that. You have memories that you can't access, and if I can help you get to them, I want to. Maybe all that...sad...is the reason you're here in the first place. There  _has_ to be a reason this is all appearing for me."

Brittany was quiet, contemplating Santana's words. She knew that she was probably right, knew that this pull towards Santana had to come from  _somewhere,_ maybe somewhere otherworldly, and she couldn't even deny her increasing desire to know more about what she harbored in her own mind. Looking at Santana, lips red and swollen, eyes still dark from the physical arousal their kissing had caused her, hair tousled from where Brittany had ran her fingers through, cheeks marred with tear tracks, and this eager look on her face (eagerness, Brittany couldn't believe, to keep searching, even after feeling something so devastating), Brittany felt another surge of love for the beautiful human girl. Rather than respond right away, Brittany just cradled Santana's chin in her hand and looked deep into her eyes, before placing a lingering, chaste kiss on her lips.

"Thank you." Brittany whispered, repeating the two words over and over again, making sure it was clear just how much it all meant to her.

"I need to know now too." Santana shrugged. "I care about you, like  _a lot,_ and I want to know for you."

"I care about you too, and I need you to promise that you'll tell me any time you want to stop. I can't, I  _won't,_ use you for this, never."

"I know that, and even though I don't think it'll ever happen, I can make you that promise." She bit her lip, looking out the window at the back door of the diner, knowing that she had to go, knowing that her father was probably already losing his mind that she wasn't there his required fifteen minutes before her shift. "I'm working late tonight, and then I need to try to get a few hours of sleep before tomorrow."

"Yeah, sorry I kept you up half the night last night."

"I'm not. I really had a good time with you. But I guess I'll text you in the morning, let you know when I've got Hummel in my sights. Just let me know what your solid plans are when you make them, okay? And please, please be careful."

"I promise I will be, you be careful too. Goodnight, Santana."  _I love you,_ Brittany added silently, though she wasn't sure why, in that moment, she felt the need to do so.

"Night, Britt."

* * *

After watching to make sure that Santana got inside (it didn't matter to Brittany that it was still light out) Brittany instinctively looked around to make sure that she was still alone before turning her car around and heading back to her house. When she walked in the door and up to Sam's room to see if he'd gotten home, it took her by no surprise to see that Quinn was there, lying on his bed and tossing a ball in the air. Sam, for his part, was studying a hand drawn map of the police station, trying to determine, Brittany figured, what their best plan of action was.

"Hey." Brittany jarred both of them, and Quinn sat up with a scowl firmly planted on her face. Deciding it was better  _not_ to engage an angry alien, she went up behind Sam and looked over his shoulder at the map. "What are you thinking?"

"Well, we talked about it on the way home, and odds are, Deputy Tanaka is going to be sitting at the front desk, like he always is. Our best bet is to lure him out of there first."

"Any idea on how we're doing that?"

"Mercedes actually volunteered to help." Sam blushed a little at the mention of Mercedes, and Brittany fought the urge to tease him about it in front of Quinn. "I'm going to blow a hole in one of her tires, and she'll go in there looking for help."

"You think Tanaka will be that easily swayed?" Brittany asked, and Sam just looked at her for a second, wondering if she'd been raised in the same town as him, the town where the Deputy was basically caricatured for his ridiculous behavior. "Okay, right. And all three of us are going in?"

"No." Quinn snapped. "Sam and I are. You're staying outside, keeping watch, and hoping your damn phone doesn't ring with your girlfriend telling you that Hummel is nowhere to be found."

"But-"

"That's the plan, Brittany. You can't just walk in here and change it, I know you think your word is law, but guess what? It's not." Quinn moved to stand nose to nose with Brittany, but the taller blonde just shook her head and conceded, not even wanting to deal with the power struggle for the time being. "Good, glad we worked that out."

"So the competition starts at nine, Mercedes said, so when we hears from Santana that Hummel is there, she's going to pick us up here. That way, our car is still in the driveway, and we don't have to worry about being spotted." Sam filled Brittany in, and she nodded.

"I guess you guys have it all figured out then."

"Yeah, well, we did what needed to be done while you were making out with Lopez. Some of us have priorities straight."

"You know what, Quinn? I'm done with hearing this. You're being unnecessarily dramatic for no reason. I was gone for an hour because I was driving her to work, and  _maybe_ if you hadn't been preoccupied blowing half of the desert to smithereens, we would have done this  _before_ I left. So don't even."

"Whatever. I just can't believe you."

"Just can't believe what? That I really care about her? That I refuse to be a  _heartless_ robot like  _you?_ Get over it. I don't know what it is you have against Santana, but she makes me feel really happy."

"And what about when we leave? You still going to be happy then?"

"I don't know  _why_ you're so convinced that we are going to leave.  _Obviously_ we came here for a reason in the first place." Brittany snapped her eyes shut, thinking for a brief instant about what Santana had felt. "You act like you remember where we came from, like you know it's so much better than Earth, when you know  _nothing!"_

"And you  _do?_ Please, Brittany, get over yourself!"

"Guys, just  _stop."_ Sam pleaded. "You're fighting over nothing."

"No Sam, we are fighting over Quinn thinking she knows everything, and her  _constant_ judgement of  _everything_ I do. Somehow I'm always wrong, and I'm really done with her behavior."

"Actually, we're fighting over Brittany having no consideration for anyone but herself."

"I'm sorry,  _what?"_ Brittany felt the adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream as her anger rose, and she turned away from Quinn before she did something she'd seriously regret. "Me being with Santana has nothing to do with  _anyone but me and Santana._ Stop thinking that I live my life as a personal attack on you. And I don't even know  _what_ Santana did to make you have such a problem with her."

"It's not Lopez that I have a problem with, it's  _you._ Think about it, Brittany, she's too damn good for you."

The room went silent after Quinn spit those words (why she said them, she really didn't know, they just came out, maybe because she knew they'd hurt Brittany the most), and Sam just stood there with his mouth agape, poising himself to grab whichever of the girls lunged at the other first. He'd never seen his sister get violent, in fact, she was morally opposed to violence of any sort, but he'd also never seen her as angry or hurt as she was in that moment, so he wasn't sure what to expect. It was Quinn who moved first, but it wasn't towards Brittany, quite the opposite, actually, she moved away, grabbing her backpack, needing to get out of that house as quickly as possible. Contrary to what the others probably believed, she didn't  _enjoy_ the anger she felt towards Brittany, she wished she could control it, wished they  _could_ be like sisters, but it was a force greater than she could fight, and somehow, and seemed to increase exponentially the more time Brittany spent with Santana. It wasn't jealousy, Quinn was sure of that, and she almost wished it  _was._ Jealousy would make sense, jealousy she could handle, but anger with no real origin? That was impossible. Without another word, Quinn walked out the door, fighting the urge to look back, fighting the urge to see if her leaving had any real impact on Brittany.

"Well." Sam's voice cut through the silence in the room. "Looks like things are back to normal. I knew that the cease fire wouldn't last all that long. I'm glad you're standing up for yourself though. "

"Yeah, well, I've let her walk all over me forever, and I  _can't_ live my life the way she wants me to. Just because she exists entirely to get back to a place we left in the first place doesn't mean I should." Brittany flopped down on Sam's bed, kicking her shoes off and sighing deeply.

"You know what she said isn't true, right? She's not too good for you."

"I guess." Brittany bit back the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes. "Sam, I really need to talk to you about something, but I need you to swear that you won't tell Quinn."

"Britt, what did you do?"

"I didn't  _do_ anything. Or, I mean, I guess I did do something. But not something bad, I don't think. I don't know. Please..."

"I won't say anything, don't worry." He swore, sitting up straighter in his chair so Brittany was in full view. "What's up?"

"Okay. So, I mean obviously you know that Santana and I have kissed and stuff..."

"Please tell me you're not asking me to give you a sex talk, Brittany, because you're my sister, and that's really, really gross."

"Eww, no. Why would you even think that? And we haven't had sex, I mean, I want to have sex with her, obviously, and I-"

"Britt _any!_ Stop, stop talking! Again, you're my sister! I love you, but I can't listen to you talk about your sex life."

"Okay, right, sorry! I actually wasn't going to talk about sex at all." She shook her head, totally embarrassed that she'd started rambling on to  _Sam_ about that. "When I kiss Santana, she  _sees_ stuff. Like, somehow I'm making a connection with her without trying."

"What kind of  _stuff?_ And if it's something I don't want to know about, please feel free to keep one details to yourself."

"No, no, not that kind of stuff! I wouldn't even be telling you about this if that was the case. She's seeing my memories, memories that I didn't know I had, of our home planet."

"Wait, seriously?" Sam's eyes widened and he almost wanted to shake Brittany, unable to believe that the very thing Quinn was  _freaking out_ about could actually serve as a means to help them achieve her exact goal. "What is it that she saw? Why can't we tell Quinn? Do you know how big of a deal this is?"

"Yes, I know what a big deal it is, obviously! And I'm not ready to tell Quinn yet, because she's insane, and you know she'll develop an obsession with it, and things are just...they're really new with Santana, and I don't want what happens between us to be another one of those things Quinn tries to control."

"Okay. But you have all the answers to our universe right at your fingertips...or...something that sounds less sexual than that." Sam wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Don't you want to know?"

"Of course I want to know, and I'm going to know more, eventually, but I also have to be really careful. Last night, her skin got so hot that it burned to the touch, and you saw the marks I left...then today, she broke away from our kiss, and she was crying. I just want to tread really lightly with this, I don't know yet how much her body can handle."

"What does she think? And why was she crying?"

"She doesn't want to stop." Brittany couldn't fight the smile that spread across her face, even through her concerns, because the idea of kissing Santana all the time  _and_ finding out about her past basically seemed like the best deal in the world. "She saw our planet, and then she saw creatures, I don't know if it was us, or what, but apparently there was some kind of emotional distress, and she thinks maybe that's why we left."

"So that's why you said that to Quinn."

"Yeah. Sam, I want to know where we come from, but I also don't think, even once I know it, that I'm going to want to leave."

"Because of Santana?"

"No. I mean, yeah, I'm in love with her, and now I have the chance for her to maybe love me too. But even without that, this is the only life I remember, and if Santana is right, it seems like our old life wasn't so great. Why would I leave?"

"I don't know, Britt. I can't say I disagree with you, but this is part of the reason why I didn't want to start searching for the fourth alien. What if we find them and then everything we know changes?"

"I have no idea. I really don't. I just know that I can't go through life  _not_ knowing why we're here and  _what_ we are. Even if it's not what  _I_ want, or  _you_ want, maybe we really serve some greater purpose, and we can't not fulfill that."

"I guess." Sam frowned. "It just kind of sucks."

"Or maybe it doesn't. Let's just wait and see, okay?"

"Yeah, only for you, and apparently for your girl with her epic persuasion skills. She should go to law school or something."

"Yeah, she's definitely persuasive." Brittany grinned, not even denying Sam's  _your girl_ statement. "What about you and Mercedes? I saw you do that little arm grab with her out in the desert."

"I dunno. Nothing yet, but we'll see. I'll keep you posted on whether she and I will be helping with the interplanetary  _research._ But I say if Santana is eager to do it, and  _obviously_ you want to keep kissing her, go with it. We both know that you'll do whatever it takes to make sure she's okay in the process."

"You're right, thanks Sam. And let me know if you want me you put in a good word for you with Mercedes. Maybe we'll double not-date or something."

"You know you're totally dating, right? Even if you're not using labels for it? Because I saw the handholding and the almost making out in desert, and the lame faces both of you had on."

"I know." Brittany laughed, fighting the urge to fist pump. "I'm totally dating Santana Lopez!  _And_ she sang Taylor Swift to me in the car! I feel like such a dork, and I don't even care!"

"You totally are, but I'm glad to see that you're happy, Britt."

* * *

The next morning, when Santana was on the bus just after sunrise, she realized that getting under an hour of sleep before a big competition was probably the  _worst_ idea she could have ever had. After spending an hour in the shower washing the French fry smell out of her hair, and then even longer on the phone with Mercedes, being that totally lame and stereotypical high school girl who couldn't stop gushing about their crush, while Mercedes played coy about whatever her feelings were for Sam Pierce, Santana ended up in bed with her lap top, doing copious amounts of research on the known planets in Earth's solar system (plus Pluto, just in case, since she thought it would be really cool if Brittany came from there). After four hours, she decided that none were a match for what she'd seen in her visions, which really, in her mind, meant only one thing; Brittany, Sam and Quinn were not only from another planet, they were from another galaxy entirely. Even on the bus, she was unable to sleep, unable to stop thinking about yellow skies and black sands, and frustrated that while she was an integral part of the day's events, she was so far away from the action that was happening in Roswell.

"Alright, Cheerios!" Santana finally stood up in her seat, figuring the best way to distract herself was to think about something she  _knew_ she was good at, winning. "Last year, we won this competition easily, but let's not get comfortable! According to  _Pom and Circumstance's_ weekly team rankings, the Bulldogs fall only two spots below us. I know this has no bearing on our chances for Regionals, but it doesn't mean we can slack off. We need to show them what we're made of, because  _my_ team will  _not_ fall from the top ranked spot on that blog. That means one smile better not falter, one move that isn't perfect better not be made. Land your flips on two feet, tighten up your pyramids, and for the sake of your spot on this team, your uniforms better be damn perfect, not  _one_ hair out of place. We aren't playing around. Hummel, where are you?"

"I'm right here!" Kurt Hummel stood up quickly from his seat in the back of the bus, taken by surprise that Santana was singling him out for the first time in his three years on the squad.

"Good. You're my second-in-command today."

"Me?"

"Yes you. Is there another Kurt Hummel on this bus?" Santana snapped, trying to sound like her usual authoritative self, and  _not_ like she was internally melting down about the safety of Brittany and the others depending, in a large part, on her ability to watch the Sheriff. "You're the only one here who has never missed a practice. Consider it a reward, and  _don_ _'_ _t_ screw it up, or you'll be warming the bench with Stern."

"Yes ma'am, um… _Captain!_ _"_ Kurt flushed, never one to draw attention to himself on the team, though Santana knew full well that he typically spent his weekends performing lead roles in the community theater, and was all but shy outside the confines of school.

"The minute this bus parks, go with him to do stretches. I'm with Coach Roz checking us in. Any questions?"

No one dared asked Santana a thing, they knew that when she was in her captain mode, she was hard core, not like the girl who played nice at the diner (which, in an of itself, was mostly due to the expectations of her father, but that was beside the point). Silently, every last one of them filed out of the bus at Artesia High School, Kurt puffing up his chest just slightly as he took a swig out of his water bottle. Tossing her bag under the bench and tucking her phone into her Spanx (for the first time in her life, grateful that they were suffocatingly tight), she distanced herself from the rest of the Cheerios and took to her own stretches, making sure at all times, one eye was on the bleachers. It was well beyond an hour and several of her own shouts over the megaphone later when she watched her parents file into her seats, followed not far behind by Hummel, dressed in jeans an a flannel shirt. Without his uniform, he looked so non-threatening, he just looked like a  _dad,_ a dad who loved his son, even if he was a cheerleader and could sing a high C while wearing tights. If Santana's primary concern wasn't Brittany, she would actually feel  _bad_ about lying to him, breaking into his office, and having to villainize him. But there was no other way, as long as he suspected the girl, as long as he was a threat to her, he was their enemy, and needed to be treated as such.

* * *

In Brittany's room, forty miles away, the three aliens waited, pretending, for the sake of their sanity, that it was any other Saturday morning. Though Brittany and Quinn hadn't exchanged words since their argument the day before, they were having a silent truce, for the sake of getting their information. Brittany lay on her bed, cellphone beside her, reading  _Great Expectations_ for her English class, Quinn clicked from website to website, absently passing the time, and Sam attempted to beat his Flappy Birds high score on his phone. When Brittany's text message alert blared on full volume, she jumped up, tossing the book on the floor, and alerted Quinn and Sam that Hummel was at the competition, and that the Cheerios were going on in twenty minutes. Knowing that Mercedes had gotten the same text, and would be in front of the house in two minutes or less, Brittany quickly sent a  _break a leg_ text in return to Santana (although she wasn't sure if that was only for showbusiness, or if she could say that to cheerleaders too) and tied her hair back before rushing to follow the others out the door.

"I cannot believe my life is now driving a getaway car for what is essentially a heist of the sheriff's office." Mercedes lamented as Sam climbed in the passenger and the girls got into the back.

"Don't tell me you're thinking about backing out on us now." Quinn snapped. "Because it's too damn late to come up with another plan."

"Excuse me, I'm  _not_ backing out, you're in  _my_ car, Fabitch, so  _you_ can check that attitude of yours at the door. Now shut up so I can drive."

From the backseat, Brittany caught a glimpse of Sam's grin in the rearview mirror, clearly impressed that Mercedes could stand up to Quinn like that, and seeing her brother look like a gigantic dork with a crush (not that  _she_ had any right to talk about dorks with crushes) momentarily abated the anxiety that was coursing through her veins. When they were just around the corner from the police station, Mercedes pulled the car over, and when she got out, Brittany noticed that she'd gone full damsel in distress for their plan, full face of makeup, heels that Brittany was sure she could never walk in, and low cut dress. If Hummel were around, he probably would take no notice, always too entrenched in his work to be distracted, but Deputy Ken Tanaka, he was an entirely different story. He may have looked like a meathead, but he was actually kind of a bumbling idiot, and Mercedes could have waved a new penny in front of his face and he'd have lost focus for a good ten minutes. So her outfit _,_ combined with the flat tire that Sam, was, at that moment, creating on the rear driver's side (a full on blow out, so Tanaka couldn't just patch it up and move on, he'd have to actually jack up the car and change the tire) would buy them at least a half hour inside.

"Are you done?" Brittany asked Sam, staring at the screen on her phone in case Santana sent another text.

"Yup." He stood up, dusting his hands on his pants and looking appreciatively at Mercedes. "You look, um, really nice, Mercedes. You're sure you're okay with this?"

"Yes, she's sure." Quinn shoved Sam forward and Mercedes just rolled her eyes. "Save the marriage proposals for later."

"Why does she have to be so embarrassing?" Sam whispered to Brittany, making her choke out a laugh and just shrug her shoulders.

As the trio made their way toward the back of the police station, and underneath the barred widow that guarded Hummel's office, Mercedes sashayed toward the front door, trying to channel her inner diva to get this done. She wasn't lying when she said she couldn't believe this was what she was doing. Two Saturdays ago, she was watching reruns of  _Boy Meets World_ and eating her mother's waffles, and such a short time later, all sense of normalcy had gone out the window. She knew that Santana loved this (loved  _Brittany,_ though she wasn't ever sure  _Santana_ was aware of that yet), but Mercedes had yet to fully decide on whether or not she  _liked_ what was happening (though she definitely liked Sam, that she could tell already, even if he was really,  _really_ dorky), or if she was just going along with it because of Santana. But as she walked in the door and considered the fact that she was the one who'd even suggested this plan in the first place, she was more inclined to believe that she  _did_ like it, did thoroughly enjoy the  _variety_ (the understatement of the millennium) that being a part of this strange alien alliance had brought to her life.

"Hey, Deputy?" Mercedes gave a toothy smile and flipped her hair as she approached the long desk inside the front door of the station, trying to hide the fact that she felt sick to her stomach that he'd been with Hummel in the diner the day Santana was shot, that if he was even slightly more intelligent, he'd probably have caught on to what was going on.

"Mornin' Miss Jones." Tanaka shoved the copy of  _Men's Health_ that he was engrossed in underneath a stack reports and tipped his hat to Mercedes. "What can I help you with today?"

"I'm so, so sorry to bother you. I know you're probably really busy, but my car seems to have gotten a flat tire, and I have  _no_ idea what to do."

"No bother at all. Where are you parked?"

"Just around the block, thank you so much, sir." She nodded, and he smiled at her, grabbing his keys off the counter and locking up the building as they exited. "I'm just going to text my father and let him know I've found someone so  _capable_ to help me."

* * *

When Brittany's phone buzzed with the alert that the building was locked and Mercedes was outside with Tanaka, Quinn and Sam wasted no time sliding gloves on and climbing up to the second story. Brittany watched from below as Sam waved his hand over the heavy screws that held the bars in place and swung the cage open, giving he and Quinn access to the office. He knew he wasn't as adept at breaking and entering as his accomplice was, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't done his share of it in the past. He was the first to jump down onto the white tile floor, extending his hand for Quinn (even it she insisted on being tough, he was still a gentleman) and pulling her through the window. They were both thankful for the pithy police budget in Roswell as Quinn effortlessly destroyed the tape inside the singular security camera in the office.

"Do you see all the files in here?" Sam looked up at her from the desk drawer. "This is going to take longer than I thought."

"Well quit talking and look faster." She started on the filing cabinet in the corner. "A tire only takes so long to change and I'd like to be long gone by the time Tanaka gets back."

"No shit." He mumbled, careful to look through each and every sheet of paper in case Hummel hid the evidence from his alien hunt among innocuous police files.

* * *

"And now, from Roswell, Artesia High School welcomes last year's National Cheerleading Champions, the Cheerios!" The young announcer called out.

Having meticulously arranged the four song routing, Santana raised her pompoms as the opening notes of  _Outrageous_ began playing, and couldn't help but replace her show smile with a genuine one as she recalled Brittany's confession that she'd thought for  _years_ that her parents had intentionally named her after Britney Spears. Quickly shaking the thought out of her head (because she  _couldn't_ be distracted by the alien's inherent cuteness), she turned her attention back to the audience, and zeroed in on Hummel, making sure it didn't look like she was obviously staring at him. Almost immediately, she noticed that he held his phone tightly in his right hand, obviously concerned about leaving his post, even as he focused the majority of his attention on his son.

 _Right foot, left foot, arms up, bend, shake._ Santana internally screamed at herself,  _never_ in her life having to focus so intently on not screwing up a routine, but the thought of Brittany so close to danger (even if Mercedes  _had_ told her that she wasn't going inside) made every fiber of her being turn to quivering jelly.

* * *

"You're very lucky you were going so slow when this happened." Tanaka told Mercedes as he tugged the decimated tire off of the car. "Otherwise, I'm afraid I'd be calling an ambulance for you, instead of changing your tire."

"That's terrifying, Deputy. I'm glad that I'm always careful to follow the laws, I'd hate for something terrible to happen to me or anyone I care about."

"Smart girl. How's your Pop? I've been meaning to make an appointment to get my teeth cleaned, but I've been awful busy with following up on the leads on the Intergalactic Diner incident."

"He's good, thanks." A chill ran down Mercedes' spine at the mention of the shooting, and she couldn't help but glance over to the back of the building where Brittany was carefully hidden from view. "And thanks for working so hard to get to the bottom of that. It was definitely a really scary day over there."

"I'm sure, and I'm sure we'll find them eventually. No one wants criminals like that in Roswell, so someone is bound to come forward with more information."

"I hope so, sir."

* * *

"Goddamnit! There's nothing!" Quinn groaned, both hands fisting files about graffiti on the side of Mrs. Hagberg's bakery. "Three chests of files and  _nothing._ It's gotta be here somewhere!"

"I think we should move the furniture. Maybe he's got a safe or something hidden behind."

"Yes!" Quinn shouted, and Sam brought a finger to his lips, reminding her that they were, in fact, trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. "Help me get the bookshelf."

* * *

"Thank you so much, Deputy Tanaka." Mercedes took hold of his bicep as the re-entered the police station, trying to further distract him (and internally rolling her eyes at her porn-like tactics;  _ooh, you're so strong, officer_ much?), because she had  _not_ gotten a message from Brittany that Sam and Quinn were safely out of the office. "I have to be at work soon, but do you think maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee as a thanks."

"That's a sweet offer, Miss, but Burt's down in Artesia for the day for his boy's cheerleading, and I'm holding down the fort here."

"Oh, right, I forgot he's on the team with Santana." She lied, trying to think quickly. "And you're sure my car is okay to drive. I mean, not that I don't trust your abilities, you just scared me a little, talking about fatal crashes from tire blowouts."

"I assure you, you're safe, but-"

A loud crash interrupted Tanaka's words, and her heart began hammering at maximum volume in her ears, to the point that she could hardly hear the Deputy telling he't safe in the building, that she needed to get out because be believed security had been breached. As he pushed her out the door, she vaguely registered him dialing his phone (she  _couldn't_ think about him calling Hummel, even if he was miles away, she  _couldn't_ think about him knowing that someone was in the building), and the moment it clicked shut behind her, Mercedes ran full force to the back of the building, to where Brittany had already started climbing the wall to get to where her brother and Quinn were.

"Brittany!" Mercedes whisper-shouted. "Tanaka knows someone is in the building! You can't go up."

"Exactly why I'm going! I saw you walk back, and I heard the crash. I need to help them. Just keep watch for us!"

Mercedes knew she was powerless, and as Brittany climbed over the ledge and in through the window, she thanked God, with everything in her, that Santana was far away, that Santana had no idea Brittany was in the police station, and that there was no possibility her best friend could get involved and do something reckless and stupid.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Quinn hissed at Brittany as the taller blonde surveyed the ransacked office. "You're supposed to be keeping watch."

"Tanaka knows someone is in the building. We've gotta go."

"No way. We're this close, we're not going until we get what we came for. If you're in here, start moving shit and  _help us!"_

"Guys!" Sam interrupted them once he'd finished pushing the heavy arms case to the side, pointing at the safe nestled in the wall. "Look."

"Open it. Quick, Sam, get it open." Brittany pleaded, resting her hand against the office doorknob and jamming the lock.

"Who's in there?" Tanaka called from outside the door, as if someone breaking into a police station would actually answer that question, and Brittany was jostled by something heavy banging on the other end. "I'm armed, and I'm going to break down the door!"

"I'm trying to open it." Sam breathed. "However he's got it locked, it's really complicated, even with my powers."

"Move over." Quinn shoved him, and concentrated hard as she attempted, with little success, to manipulate it. "Go if you want, but  _I'm_ not leaving without what's in here."

"We're not leaving you." Brittany swore, her voice barely registering volume as she was hit with horrifying images of pickled organs, or wires and probing, of  _Santana,_ locked in a jail cell somewhere because she was an alien accomplice. "Sam, get over here and help me put more weight against the door. If he breaks it down, I can't hold him back myself."

* * *

Before Santana could see that anything was amiss, she felt it, deep within her gut. Somehow, the connection she had with Brittany was growing rapidly, too rapidly for her to fully understand one thing before another took root, and even from miles away, strong waves of fear and uncertainty,  _Brittany's_ fear and uncertainty, began coursing through Santana's blood like a physical entity. She tried to put it aside, to get through the last three minutes of the routine, to be firmly planted on two feet, with access to her cellphone before she panicked, but when she was hoisted up on top of the pyramid, holding her own foot high above her head, that's when she realized she had lost sight of Hummel. Against all logic, she tried to hope that he'd moved his seat, trying to get a closer look at his son, who was doing flips twenty feet below Santana, but she knew that the fear that was overtaking her suggested at Brittany was in trouble, that somehow, even with distractions and planning, they'd been caught in the act. Santana tried to keep on her megawatt smile, tried to just  _finish_ so she could feign illness and get her parents to drive her home, but when all she could picture in her mind was something terrible (computer images of autopsies flashed behind her eyes) happening to the girl she cared so deeply for, she lost her focus and the only knee that was supporting her went weak. Before she could stop it, she began a long tumble to the ground, and even as her right side made hit damp earth with a sickening thud, and excruciating pain radiated through her midsection, all she could think of was one thing, all she could think of was  _Brittany, Brittany, Brittany._


	8. Yellow

As Santana lay on the ground, trying to fight through the pain in her side, the entirety of the audience had gone silent, and all she could hear were her own horrifying thoughts. Everything felt just the slightest bit fuzzy around the edges, everything but the sharp need to get up, the sharper need to somehow get her phone out of her Spanx and get in touch with Brittany and the others. She wasn't even sure they needed her to tell them that Hummel was coming (God, she hoped they did, if they didn't suspect that, they weren't in the trouble she believed they were), but as she tried to push up on her hands and get into a sitting position, she saw Roz Washington standing above her, face coated with deep concern.

"Don't get up Lopez, you just fell off a damn pyramid, don't you move until these paramedics move their slow asses and get to you."

"I'm fine, Coach." Santana tried, wincing as she moved to roll over.

"Do you have medical training? Because unless you went to medical school without telling me, you're not getting off the ground until you're checked out. What are you, a damn fool?"

* * *

"Damn it. Damn it. Damn it." Quinn seethed, the banging against the door breaking her concentration each and every time she felt like she was getting close to manipulating the lock. She couldn't figure out what the mechanism was made of, couldn't get her mind to pry it apart as easily as she was used to.

"It's not going to budge. Do you think I didn't try?"

"Shut up. I need three seconds of silence, I'm close."

"Oh, let me tell that to the deputy out there, hold on." Sam snipped, his desire to get out of there skyrocketing with every metallic bang.

"What if we try to do it together?" Brittany suggested. "Sam, do you think you can hold the door alone?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I? Go, hurry."

Nearly leaping the six feet over to where Quinn stood, Brittany immediately put her hand beside the other girl's and tried to concentrate as hard as she could, tried to tune out the increasingly threatening shouts from the other side of the door. She was almost there, she  _knew_  their combined efforts had just about cracked the lock, when she felt a sharp stitch of pain in her side, a pain that temporarily tore her from her task and caused her to curse out loud. It wasn't the physical aspect of the agony that made her leap back, it was the unmistakable sensation of knowing where it came from, knowing, somehow, deep within herself, that something had happened to Santana, something she was too far away to protect her from. Temporarily losing all control, Brittany released a sound that she'd never made before, a sound so inhuman that it caused Sam and Quinn to freeze in their spots, and Brittany to bring both hands up to her own mouth, trying to hold it inside.

"What the hell, Brittany?" Quinn snapped, recovering first and taking matters into her own hand (literally), grabbing Brittany's to place it back beside hers.

"Ouch. Ugh." Brittany squeezed her eyes tightly shut, knowing she had to block it out, knowing that if  _any_  of them were going to make it out of what they'd gotten themselves into, she'd have to power through the pain, and more importantly, trust that the best way to fix whatever had happened to the girl she loved was to avoid getting locked up in a government lab, but it was near impossible, this rabid animal-like instinct controlling her in a way she'd never before experienced.

* * *

"It doesn't look like anything's broken." The acne-scarred paramedic informed Roz, ignoring Santana's insistence that she was fucking fine as he pressed hard into her side, causing her to writhe in agony. "But I'd say your ribs are going to have one hell of a bruise."

"Thank you...Captain Obvious." She managed, trying to sound so much more okay than she actually felt. When Ronald McDonald's goofier looking younger brother had unzipped her cheerleading top and pulled down her Spanx to check the injury, she realized why the force had felt concentrated in a small area. Indestructible phone cases, good for saving iPhones from dying an untimely death,  _not_ good for cushioning falls.

"You had your damn cell phone in your underwear, Lopez? Have you lost your damn mind? I have half a mind to take this thing and throw it down the sewer. Who the hell's gonna call you that's so important that you damn near got yourself killed?"

"It...it wasn't the phone." Santana sputtered. "I just...didn't lock my knee and fucked up the execution."

"Damn right you did! Girl, you lucky you the best one on this squad or it would be your ass benched with Stern." Roz glared at her, throwing Santana's earlier words to Kurt back in her face, and waving the device in the air. But Santana didn't care, she could kick her off the squad, kick her out of school for all she cared, and she'd deal with it later. In that moment, all she wanted, no,  _needed_  to do was to pick up her  _not_  shattered cellphone and call Brittany before she lost her damn mind.

"Can I...get up now?" She nearly pleased with the paramedic, the wind seriously knocked out of her, and the pain still radiating harshly when she tried to move.

"Go slow." McDonald Junior advised her, bracing her under her armpits as she moved to sit up. "I'm not going to take you to the hospital, but you need to go see your doctor, and watch tonight for signs of internal injury, vomiting blood, extreme swelling, lightheadedness. If any of these things happen, you need to get to the nearest hospital immediately.

 _"¡Mija! ¡Mija! ¿Estas bien? ¡Dios mio, mi bebé linda!"_  Maribel Lopez cried out dramatically, finally bursting though the crowd of people and out onto the field.

"Ma'am, you'll have to step back and give her a little space."

"Don't  _you_  tell me to give her space! This is my daughter, and she's injured! I need to look at her!"

"Mami." Santana groaned, the anxious itch growing stronger and stronger by the second. "I'm...fine."

"Fine! She tells me she's fine and she can't even breathe!"

* * *

Once Brittany had successfully pushed down the strange desire to flee from the building and get to Santana (as if she were that lame vampire guy from Twilight and could somehow defy space and time and get to her in an instant  _anyway_ ), the lock suddenly became easier to handle. Forty-three seconds later, both she and Quinn felt it open simultaneously, and when the door to the safe swung open, Brittany felt like for just one second, even with the threatening and the banging, the excruciating pain in her side, and the fact that they were almost as good as caught, she could breathe again. It wasn't even much, it was a plan Manila folder, nothing identifying about the cream colored stock, but on top of it lay a pendant encased in glass, a pendant that she immediately recognized, though the reason how was still buried deep within her. Everything froze, just for a fraction of a second, and as she reached out the grab it, the glass shattered, startling her. Quickly, she closed her hand around it the strange yellow stone set in dull metal on a broken chain, to own it again (because somehow, she  _knew_  that it had, at some point, belonged to her), and then she was jarred back to reality by the hell breaking lose all around her.

"Grab whatever it is that's in there and let's go." Sam hissed, the metal hinges of the door beginning to give under the pressure behind him. It was no secret that Tanaka loved to spend time at the gym, and whatever it was he was using to pound against the door was working faster than they'd expected."

"Slam it shut, move the stuff back." Brittany ordered Quinn, who, for once in her life, didn't argue. Even though the instant Hummel got back, he'd know that someone had taken what he held dear, they needed to buy just the smallest fraction of time, needed to keep the secret safe hidden from Tanaka.

"Are we good? Can we go?" Sam asked, and Brittany just nodded, moving quickly to the window and making sure the others were right beside her.

"On three, we're jumping into that dumpster." Quinn directed as Brittany breathed through the pain in her side. "Then we're going to run like hell and hope we're out of his sight before he breaks down that door."

"We are  _so_  fucked." Sam groaned.

_"One. Two. Three."_

* * *

When Santana finally managed to make it into a standing position (she was glad she couldn't remember how much pain she was in when she had been shot, because if  _bruised ribs_  hurt that much, she couldn't imagine what a gaping bullet wound felt like), she realized that everyone was staring at her; her team, the other team, the people in the bleachers, and it was making her feel even more anxious than she already was. She took a second to gasp in some air before turning to her team and snapping at them to get off the field. Even though she really didn't care at that point about saving face, she just needed them to stop looking at her, needed to get away from the clutches of her mother and get in touch with Brittany. Out of the corner of her eye, Santana watched as Kurt was quick to mobilize the girls, his earlier pep replaced by a quiet anger, probably at the realization that his father was nowhere to be found. Had Santana not been preoccupied with the emotions that were attacking her from Brittany, she probably would have actually felt bad for him, but as it was, she had a one track mind. Reaching out her hand to Roz, the coach sucked her teeth before slapping the phone down in Santana's opened palm and shaking her head.

"Mamí...I need to...go to the bathroom...before we go." Santana huffed, pressing her hand into her side, though she wasn't sure that did anything to make it feel better.

"I'll walk you there then."

" _Por favor, Mamita_...I'm making enough of a scene...as it is.  _Estoy bien, lo prometo_...It's just, it's right there."

"Fine, but I'll be waiting right here while your father pulls the van closer. You are  _not_  taking the bus home."

* * *

Standing in the alley, Mercedes anxiously alternated between staring at the screen of her phone and looking over her shoulder. Although she was expecting it to ring, she still jumped at the sound in her hands, and seeing it was Santana, she was pretty sure things were about to go from bad to worse.

"Hummel...Hummel's coming."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Santana, Tanaka is in there, and they're still not out. Brittany, she wouldn't listen to me, and she went in after them." Mercedes confessed, against her better judgement.

" _What_?" Santana shrieked, then was taken by a painful coughing fit as she breathed too much air into her sensitive chest. "Do...something. Go to the diner...start a fire...or break a window."

"Do you hear yourself? We're not committing more crimes! That's what got us into this in the first place!"

"But...Brittany!" Sobs immediately came out of Santana's chest, and Mercedes could hear the sound of her head banging against the wall.

"Stop! Just, stop! Why do you even sound like you're dying?"

"I...fell off the pyramid...bruised ribs...'Cedes get them out, please."

"Oh, Sweet Lord, this is a clusterfuck." Mercedes brought her hand to her forehead, pretty positive that none of them would get through the day without being maimed or arrested. Then, as if by some miracle, she saw a flash of blonde, and immediately upon hearing the crunch of garbage in dumpster, she took off running, faster than she ever thought possible, towards her car. "They're out, I'll call you back!"

* * *

"Pull it together...come on...pull it together." Santana spoke to herself in the mirror, the panic in her chest still not abated, so she knew that Brittany wasn't yet to safety. "You've gotta...get in the car with...your parents. She'll be...okay. Ugh! Fuck!"

Santana knew that she needed to leave the bathroom, knew that she needed to get back to Roswell, to where she could see Brittany, hopefully safe and sound, with her own eyes, but she also needed to stop crying before she could go out there and see her parents again. Slamming her hands back against the tiled wall that was holding up her injured body, she groaned, a combination of both pain and frustration and then furiously scrubbed at her face with her fists. Checking her phone for the hundredth time in about sixty seconds, Santana didn't know what to think, she just prayed to whoever was out there in the vast universe that Brittany and the others had not been caught. A knock on the bathroom door startled her, and immediately after jumping a bit, she winced at the pain the sudden jolt caused her.

"Santana, it's Kurt! Your mother asked me to help you get to the car."

" _Jesu Cristo, Mamí_." Santana spoke to the air. "I'm fine, Hummel...go get on...the damn bus."

"Coach Roz told me to do what your mother said. Drop the pride act, I saw you almost crawl your way in here."

"Ugh." She pressed one arm to the underside of her ribs, trying to hold in the agony, trying to stop her heart from racing, and gave her face one last harsh wipe before slowly opening the door, revealing Kurt Hummel, changed out of his uniform and into sweatpants, with his arms crossed over his chest.

The walk to the car felt like an eternity, with one of Kurt's arms supporting her, and the strange looks he kept shooting in her direction. She wanted to sprint, so bad, wanted to sprint all the way back to Roswell, if she could, but she was lucky enough she could take the small, pained steps that she was managing with great, great effort.

"Take a picture...it'll last longer." She tried to snap at Kurt, but bitchiness definitely loses it's effect when you have to stop halfway through and attempt to catch your breath.

"You were distracted." Kurt didn't look at her, and she felt him almost physically cower away from her (a difficult maneuver when he was holding her up) as he spoke the words.

"Excuse me?"

"You were distracted up there, you've been distracted for over a week now."

"No...I wasn't...Don't get too big for your panties...or you'll be back at the bottom."

"Santana. I've known you since we were in diapers." He said gently. "I know we're not friends, but I feel like I've always sort of looked up to you. You were the first one in our year who, you know, came out, and you never cared what anyone thought. I don't know, my dad, he asked me to look out for you, he thinks you might be in some kind of trouble-"

"He what?" Santana felt white hot fear assault her system, fear that was hers this time, fear that just compounded on top of what she was already feeling from Brittany.

"He didn't say what kind of trouble, but if you need help, he'll help you. Santana, if it's drugs, or whatever it is, you don't have to be afraid to go to him."

"Well thank you...for your concern..." She said sarcastically, trying, trying not to let her emotions show. "But I'm not...in trouble. School and college...applications and work. If I'm distracted...that's why. So drop it. Now."

"Okay, fine." He told her unconvincingly. "But if you ever need anything, I'm here for you. And my dad too. I know some kids at school think he's the bad guy, because he busts up parties and pulls them over for speeding, but he's not."

"Stop...just stop. You're...exhausting me."

* * *

"Goddamnit drive faster Mercedes!" Quinn screeched from the backseat, where she'd found herself piled with Brittany and Sam.

"Relax, Angelina Jolie! I'm not about to have a low speed chase in a Ford Taurus. No one is following us anyway! I'm not drawing attention to the car!"

"Just hurry the fuck up! You don't have to do fifteen miles an hour, grandma!"

"I'm following the speed limit!"

"Stop! Stop yelling!" Brittany screamed over the two of them, hugging their stolen goods close to her and leaning into Sam to try to put pressure on her side.

"Britt, what's the matter with you?" Sam asked her, concern coloring his face.

"Mercedes! You're sure Santana is okay?" Brittany asked, temporarily ignoring Sam's question, because if Santana was fine, then she really  _didn't_  know why she was in agony.

"Yeah. I mean, she fell off the pyramid, but she did that once before. Hummel isn't-" Mercedes stopped realizing what was going on. "Tell me you're not feeling that pain in your ribs right now."

"I am." Brittany nodded, squeezing her eyes closed to keep from crying out, especially as it was confirmed that  _Santana_  was feeling the same pain, and maybe worse, since she was the one who'd actually been hurt.

"Talk about Santana's  _tragic_  cheerleading injury when you get us safely home!" Quinn demanded, not catching on, but Sam looked at Brittany, Sam saw the myriad conflicting emotions in Brittany's eyes, and Sam  _knew_.

"What is even going on?" He asked no one in particular.

"I have no idea." Brittany answered.

* * *

"Santana, I'm sorry." Javier stood at the back of the diner's cargo van. "Had we known you were coming home with us, we'd have brought the car."

"It's fine...Papí. I need to lie down...anyway."

"I tried to make it comfortable for you,  _mi corazon_." Maribel patted the pile of blankets she'd made on the old bench seat and frowned. "We'll try to avoid the bumps and potholes."

"I don't care, I just...want to see the doctor and...get home and to bed."

* * *

Brittany couldn't believe it, when she entered her own home through her back door, Quinn and Sam following close behind after Mercedes dropped them off, not wanting her car parked at the Pierce's to arouse suspicion in the investigation that was bound to happen. She couldn't believe that they'd made it home without getting caught, couldn't believe that they were in possession of all of the evidence Hummel had on the fourth alien, that they ( _she_ , her mind kept claiming) were in possession of the pendant that came from their home planet. Even with the ache in her side, even with the knowledge that Santana had been hurt, probably because she'd been distracted by what was happening in Roswell, she couldn't believe that they had actually successfully retrieved what they'd gone in for. Immediately, she went upstairs, wanting to shed the black clothes she'd donned for the break in, wanting to hide what they'd taken as best she could, until they could find a more permanent place, and wanting, more than anything, to hear Santana's voice and know she was okay. Almost beyond her control, she pressed the buttons on her phone, finding the number stored within.

" _Hey_." Santana breathed through the phone before the first ring even finished. Unbeknownst to Brittany, they were both sighing the same relief at knowing the other was safe.

"Hi."

" _You're okay_." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, because even still thirty-four miles outside of Roswell, Santana could  _feel_  it.

"And you're hurt." Brittany lied down, the pain somehow fading into more of a dull throb on her end as she spoke to Santana.

" _It's not so…bad. Just a fall._ "

"Santana, please don't lie to me. I can hear it in your voice, you can hardly breathe, and I  _felt_  it, your pain. I still sort of  _feel_  it, a little, and I don't know how it's possible, but it's true."

" _I…I know it is, real…I mean. I felt how scared…you were._ " Santana closed her eyes, trying to block the memory of those feelings from resurfacing. " _And you're right…it hurts like hell. But did you-"_

"Yes." Brittany finished, giving Santana a rest from the struggle it took to speak. "It's all here, but I haven't even looked at it yet. I just wanted to make sure you were okay first."

" _I am…don't worry, okay? Go see what's…there. I'm sure Quinn…ugh, sorry…is ready to bang down the door_."

"She's changing, actually, in Sam's room." Brittany actually found herself able to laugh, feeling the giggles bubble up uncontrollably inside of her, since less than a half hour earlier, she'd been convinced she was as good as dead. "Will you text me when you get home so I know you're resting your ribs in bed? And then I'll call you when we're done and let you know what we got?"

" _Of course. I'm sorry I have to…cancel our date. I'm…sure my mother will lock me in the house though_."

"She's probably right about doing that, Santana." Brittany chastised a little, then softened her voice. "But do you think it's maybe okay if I come by later? I just feel like I really, really need to see you after all of this."

" _Yeah_." Santana smiled in spite of the pain at the thought of being able to lie next to Brittany. " _I think I really need to…see you too._ "

After pulling on high waisted shorts and a tank top, Brittany made her way into Sam's room. The folder of papers was pressed tightly against her chest, like she was carrying a small child, but the pendant she kept tightly clasped in her palm, shocked that even in the heat of her hand, the strange metal never warmed. It surprised her, when she opened the door and sat down at the desk how neither of them, not even Quinn, chomped at the bit to tear through the papers, they just sat silent for several minutes, recognizing the magnitude of what was about to happen. There was no turning back, the answers to their universe were suddenly so much more accessible than they had ever been, and that was a lot to take.

"So is Mercedes coming over or..." Brittany trailed off.

"No." Sam shook his head. "She wants to see Santana before her shift starts, and mostly, she thinks this should be something that the three of us do together."

"Right. Okay."

"Let's just do it." Quinn finally said, and Brittany and Sam both were surprised to hear the smallest twinge of hesitation in her words. "Give me the folder."

"Here." Brittany passed it over to the bed, still keeping her hand closed around the other object. She knew that Quinn had seen it, knew that Quinn was going to want to touch it, but deep from within her, she felt an almost violent opposition to that.

The held their collective breaths as a Quinn first lifted out the images that Hummel had shown to Santana and Mercedes, that overwhelming evidence that the one whom they sought had, and the very least, been present at the time of death for the corpse in the photos. Brittany was sure she'd heard Sam curse under his breath, and she herself had to close her eyes for a moment, a prayer, of some sort, that she wasn't getting the ones she loved into a world of trouble. Beneath the images were pages and pages, probably close to one hundred, of notes, not in Hummel's hand, but his father's, perhaps, about the crash site, now such an unassuming area out in the desert. About strange metals that would unfurl themselves when crumpled, that were primarily unaffected by human touch (Brittany squeezed her palm again around what she held and wondered, if it were indestructible, how the chain had broken), about a big eyed creature that squealed out in anger (or maybe fear, Brittany thought, imagining the sound that escaped her own lips earlier) when approached, about an escape, an escape that was covered up "for the peace of mind of the citizens of Roswell." Even after over an hour of reading through the pages, what struck Brittany the most was that the senior Hummel had been there, he'd seen this elusive alien, in true form, he'd touched, perhaps, the ship they'd come on, made eye contact, maybe, with the one they searched for, but when the government tried to cover it up, he was branded as crazy, again,  _for the peace of mind._

Beneath the careworn and faded notes, beneath the crude drawing of a spaceship, not entirely unlike the ones in science fiction movies (there had to be some basis in fact, Brittany guessed, especially with the influx of movies of that type after the '47 crash), there was a singular sheet of paper with a list of names. Brittany thought of her history class at that moment, where they were learning about the Red Scare, McCarthyism, and she cringed as she read down the list of ten names, finding, at the very bottom, her own.

"Well, at least we know he got one right." She tried to joke, but the laughter caught in her throat. It wasn't funny, it wasn't funny at all, but she could at least hope that  _maybe_ , just maybe, there was some accuracy to another name on that list.

"So what do we do now?" Sam asked quietly, still the most skeptical about the entire operation, but truly, more than a little intrigued (a huge fan of mysteries, anyway) by what lie ahead.

"I think that we should start at the beginning, and as ridiculous as it sounds, we do some research on the internet, see where they live, and go from there."

"We come from a planet that makes indestructible metal and can send it's inhabitants across the universe, and we're using Google? Cute." Quinn rolled her eyes, but even she knew that as ridiculous as it was, that was, at the moment, their only option.

"And then what, we just show up on their doorstep,  _hey, so, are you one of the Roswell aliens?"_

"I think..." Brittany paused to take a breath. "I think that if they really are who we're looking for, they'll have been waiting for us to come for a long time."

"Well then why not seek us out, Britt? Why leave us here with no answers? None of it makes any kind of sense at all."

"Yeah, I know Sam, but I don't know, I just have this feeling."

"You seem to be having a lot of those lately." Quinn mumbled bitterly, eyeing Brittany's side. Rather than engage her-because  _really_ , what was she going to do,  _apologize_  for being able to feel Santana's pain?- Brittany just let that one go, let Quinn feel, for just one second, vindicated by her need to make ridiculous comments. "Let me see the thing."

"What thing?" Sam asked, and Brittany's hand squeezed tighter, until her knuckles whitened.

"A necklace." Quinn's face hardened as she watched Brittany's eyes avert. "Stop fucking around, Brittany, it's not yours."

 _But it is._  Brittany's mind called out silently.  _You can't let them have it._

"Oh awesome! I bet it's made out of that metal Hummel's dad talks about, let me see!"

"Okay." Brittany bit her tongue, bit down the voices in her head, and slowly unfurled her fingers, revealing the prized possession to the others. When Quinn reached out to take it, Brittany fought against every fiber of her being to keep from recoiling, but then suddenly, Quinn jumped back, and Brittany felt a sense of peace wash over her.

"Ah, fuck." Quinn shook out her hand as if she'd been burned. "What the hell did you do to it, Brittany?"

"I didn't..." She  _didn't_...right?

"Sam, try to take it from her." Quinn ordered, cradling her invisibly wounded palm with the other hand.

"I don't think I want to." He furrowed his brow and noticed the possessive look in Brittany's eyes.

"Stop being such a goddamn baby and try to touch it!" She spit, and tentatively, Sam outstretched his hand, then quickly pulled it back.

"Ow! What the hell? How are you holding that thing?"

"Doesn't hurt me." Brittany shrugged and cradled it back to her chest. "I...I'm pretty sure it was mine."

Before Quinn could say something that was  _sure_  to be dripping with fury, the doorbell rang, and Brittany felt her heart lurch in her chest. Susan and Evan Pierce had left early that morning, off antiquing, like they did on Saturdays in the fall, and since neither Brittany or Sam were expecting any sort of company (not that they ever were), any one of the three aliens in the room would have bet all their very lives on who was at the door.

"Sam." Brittany sounded monotone as she spoke as calmly as she could. "Take the old computer box out from under the dirty clothes in the bottom of your closet. We're going to put everything in there, you're going to put it back where you found it, and I'm going to answer the door."

"What? You can't be serious right now, Britt, mom and dad aren't even home! He could take us in right now and they'd never find us again."

"He's got no proof we did anything. He's not going to search the house. Just do it. Tonight, I'll get everything out of here."

"Now!" Quinn reiterated Brittany's order, and Sam moved quickly to get the box out.

Carefully, Brittany dropped her necklace in between the styrofoam packaging that remained in the box, hyper-reluctant to let it out of sight, despite the way it seemed to be untouchable, and left Sam and Quinn to deal with the rest as she slowly made her way down the stairs. When she swung open the front door, she paused for the briefest instant to catch her breath, maintaining her carefully practiced emotionless face and looked Sheriff Burt Hummel directly in the eyes.

"Oh, hi Sheriff."

"Mornin' Miss Pierce." He tipped his hat, his own mannerisms so carefully regimented. "Your parents home?"

"No, sir. They went down to Carlsbad for the day, there was some kind of auction at an antique dealer, and mom's been trying to find some old Tiffany lamp."

"Sounds like a nice way to spend a Saturday." Hummel attempted to surreptitiously look around Brittany and through the doorway. "Might've passed them on 285, I was down in Artesia for my boy's cheer competition this morning."

"That sounds fun. Did they win?"

"You know, I'm actually not sure." The smallest amount of bitterness came through his words. "Had to leave before it was over, had a little trouble down at the station."

"Did you want to come inside? Can I get you something to drink?"

"Britt, who's-" Before Hummel could answer, Sam bounded down the stairs with wet hair, looking like he'd just stepped out of the shower. "Hi Sheriff Hummel."

"Hello, Mr. Pierce. I was just about to tell your sister that I'm stopping by to make sure everything's alright here. We had a break in at the station, and given the fact that it's the second crime in this town in less than two weeks, Deputy Tanaka and I are doing our part to ensure the peace of mind of the citizens of Roswell." Hummel told Sam, and Brittany nearly shivered at the words, wondering if he'd intentionally used his father's words to see if she'd react. "I'm glad I did, too, hearing that your parents are out of town."

"Thank you, sir." Sam nodded. "Of all the places in town though, why would someone rob a police station?"

"I'm wondering that myself. Nothing was taken, even though my arms case was knocked over and broken, and they could have had themselves a mess of guns. Seems strange that this happens so soon after a gun went off at the Lopezes' diner without a robbery too."

"It's good though, right?" Brittany asked. "Nothing got taken and nobody got hurt both times."

"Crime is never good." He shook his head. "Even victimless crime has a way of instilling fear, and distracting law enforcement from bigger things at hand. Anyway, neither of you happened to be out and see anything, did you?"

"No, sir." Brittany shook her head, and Sam followed suit, both falling under the scrutinizing gaze of Hummel. He was trying to intimidate them, they both knew that, they both knew that he could do nothing to them without any proof, to Brittany, in particular, but it didn't mean he wasn't going to try to make them squirm.

"We've been here all morning, were thinking about going down to have a burger later on." Sam added.

"Alright then. If you do end up out of the house, be careful, never know what kind of trouble will come next."

"Right, will do, sir." Sam affirmed. "Thanks for checking in on us, we'll let Mom and Dad know you stopped in. I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Yeah, me too, son, me too."

With a final tip of his hat, Hummel turned away from the Pierce siblings and began making his way down the driveway. Brittany, continuing to use the manners her mother had taught her, waited he had reached his car, parked on the street, and gave him a quick wave before closing the door and collapsing against it. Her heart was racing, faster maybe than it had been at the police station, and she inhaled quickly, trying to catch her breath.

"Nothing was stolen from the station." Brittany repeated Hummel's words, just because she needed to hear them come from her own mouth. "I guess that has to be the official story, since the only things we took, he'll never admit to having."

"Were you seriously going to let him in here? Where we have the stuff?" Sam asked in a whisper, even though Hummel was long out of earshot. "What, were you going to cook him a roast too?"

"No, recipes are confusing for me." Brittany deadpanned, but Sam was unamused. "Yes, I invited him in, we're  _not acting suspicious_."

"We need to find a place to hide it all, Brittany, bury it out in the desert or something. What if he gets a search warrant? We're so screwed."

"A search warrant for what? Nothing was stolen, remember? As far as anyone else is concerned, there's nothing to search for. But I'll take care of it."

"You're bringing it to Santana." He didn't question, he just knew.

"Yes, no, I don't know. I'm going to see what she thinks, and then go from there."

"What is even going on with you guys? It just seems like it gets weirder every day. You literally  _felt_  her pain, what does that even mean?

"I don't know, Sam. Honestly, there's nothing I'm really sure about right now. Maybe it's a weird aftereffect of the healing, I have no idea. I'm hoping that once we find this other alien, maybe  _they_  will be able to tell me."

"I hope so too. And I hope we find them before Hummel finds a reason to lock us all up."

"We will." Brittany nodded, her jaw set, because she couldn't, no wouldn't, even if it was the last thing she did, let them get caught.

Quinn was like a caged animal after Hummel's visit, pacing the floor of Sam's bedroom, compulsively checking outside the window, like she was being watched. It wasn't until Brittany pulled down the shades and went back into the closet to pull the box out that she finally calmed down, though her senses were still on high alert. Once she opened the box, Brittany couldn't help but immediately snatch up the pendant again, slipping the chain over her head and holding the back closed, letting the cool foreign metal fall between her breasts momentarily. She didn't understand why (did she really understand much of anything anymore?) but something about having it there calmed her, quieted her racing heart more than it had been all throughout the day. Even Quinn's fleeting glare hardly fazed her, she just wanted to delve into investigating the names on the list, to get a step closer to gaining answers to her increasingly confusing existence.

Searching the internet for the names on the list was easy, shockingly easy, Brittany thought, as she crossed the fourth name off the list, joining three others among the deceased, and she realized that like she, Sam and Quinn, they probably figured it was safer just to hide in plain sight, probably just safer to hide amongst humans and hope they'd go undetected. The thing was, they probably would be, if it weren't for the prying eyes of Hummel, and Brittany was glad that if they were able to find them, they'd also be able to inform them of the danger. Three hours and compulsive cross checking (thanks to Quinn) later, there were only three names that remained, only three suspects that weren't dead, or entirely far fetched (J.J. Abrams, really? They were all pretty sure that Hummel only added that for his own amusement). Three names, it was hopefully one of those three people, who's addresses were carefully written in Brittany's hand beside their aliases, who could unlock so many secrets for three clueless aliens. April Rhodes, age forty-nine, lives in Ruidoso, Howard Bamboo, age undetermined, lives on a reservation near Lincoln National Forest, and Dustin Goolsby, age fifty-three, lives in Las Cruces. The thought that they could actually  _know_  the location of someone for their planet made Brittany buzz with excitement, Sam's stomach feel tight with anxiety, and drove Quinn to nearly begin packing up to head out on their quest.

Of course, they couldn't, laying low after the robbery did not mean immediately heading to one of the locations on their stolen list, it meant waiting, it mean more planning, and it meant, apparently, heading over to the diner for burgers, since Sam  _had_  told the Sheriff (rather conveniently, Brittany thought) that they'd be over there at some point in the day. By the time they'd finally decided to go, and by the time Brittany hid the papers inside of her history book and the pendant in an inside zip pocket of her backpack, the dinner rush was in full swing. Brittany kept her backpack nearly glued to her body as they sat down at the table, Sam, taking his turn at mooning, watched Mercedes shuffle around from table to table ( _want a burger to go with that shake_ , Brittany teased him), while Quinn kept mostly to herself, pretending to be interested in her math homework on a Saturday night. It was Santana's parents that Brittany couldn't help but watch, her dad, who had his hands full at the counter, and her mom, who swung through the front door, carrying bags from the pharmacy in her hands, making, of course, Brittany's skin prickle.

"Maribel, you're already poured a gallon of witchhazel on the girl, leave her be." Javier Lopez chastised his wife. "She wants to sleep, leave her to sleep."

"Don't you tell me what to do." She pressed her hand to her hip, in a very Santana-like way, Brittany thought. "All you men today, you try to tell me how to take care of my baby, but you don't listen to me when I tell you she needs me."

" _Amor_ , of course she needs you." He switched to a softer tone, reaching out for her hand. "But she also needs rest. You spoke to Dr. Morlind yourself, if she's sleeping and you keep waking her up, she's not going to have time to heal."

"She's only been injured for ten hours! It's not going to miraculously heal! For now, I'll baby her a little."

"I know that's what you want, but you know our Nita. If you fuss too much over her, she'll get angry and ask you to leave her alone completely." He spoke quietly and firmly, and Brittany couldn't help but smile to herself over the texts she'd sporadically received from Santana throughout the day (when she wasn't falling asleep from the pain medication Dr. Morlind had given her). Her mother definitely was driving her crazy, but Brittany thought it was really sweet.

"Fine." Maribel huffed, glaring at her husband. "But I'm going to say goodnight to her, and check one last time if she needs anything."

"Of course."

"Brittany." Quinn snapped her fingers in front of Brittany's face. "Have you listened to one word I've even said?"

"No...I...sorry, I was listening to Santana's parents."

"We really need to find a new place to eat. She's not even  _here_  and you're practically drooling into the ketchup, and I had to get a  _mop_  to clean up underneath Sam."

"Shh, be cool, Mercedes is coming over here." Sam waved them off and grinned as Mercedes approached the table for the first time.

"Good evening, welcome to the Intergalactic Diner." She said formally, then subtly looked around before pulling out an order pad. "Anything?"

"We've narrowed it down a lot." Sam whispered. "We're just um, making plans and stuff for what to do next. If you want to come over tomorrow..."

"Yeah, sure." Brittany was sure she could see Mercedes' blush, and Sam was darker than the ketchup bottle. "So what can I get you guys, the usual?"

"Sounds good." Sam nodded, attempting a terrible wink, but Mercedes just laughed, subtly placing her hand on top of his.

"I'm losing my appetite." Quinn snipped.

"Sure you are, Quinn." Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Tell me that again when your Spock burger and banana shake come. I'll be back."

"I thought  _Santana_  would be the one to out bitch you." Sam teased. "But Mercedes is definitely holding her own."

"Whatever. Can we get back to what I was saying and neither of you were listening to? We need to go on the school camping trip next week."

"Ummm. Why?" Sam asked, as Brittany looked at her phone, smiling at a text from Santana saying that her mom claimed she was going to let her rest, and that she'd asked her to open the window because it was stuffy in there (a second invitation for Brittany to come over, and she felt like she couldn't get her food and eat it fast enough). "I mean, I love camping, so does Britt, but  _you_ , not so much, the one time you came-"

"Because the campground is only three miles from the reservation." Quinn hissed under her breath. "It wouldn't be weird for us to be out in the desert then, and we could go on a hike, or whatever people do on those trips, talk to the Bamboo guy, and be back before anyone knows we're gone."

"I don't know, Quinn. Suddenly we're going to take an interest in after school activities?" Brittany stirred the ice in her water nervously. "You don't think that's strange."

"College applications. Isn't that what everyone's worried about now? Team building, or whatever crap I'm going to have to roll my eyes through, looks  _fantastic_  on those, if anyone asks."

"Yeah I guess."

"Britt, Quinn's saying we can actually behave like normal kids for once in our lives, and I'm sure Santana will jump at the chance to come, you know, if her ribs are better."

"Fine." Brittany smiled in spite of herself, hearing Quinn suck her teeth and mutter something about  _not really the point_  in the process. "Mom and Dad will be glad anyway, they always want us to take part in things like this. I bet Dad'll even take us to get new hiking boots and stuff, I'm pretty sure mine are wrecked from when I fell in that creek last spring."

"Oh, goody! You two are going on a family shopping trip, did you  _completely_  miss my point and get all caught up in the lameness of the whole thing."

"No." Sam sneered. "We didn't, we just want to have a little  _fun_  in the midst of possibly getting ourselves killed, okay? Can't we at least have that?"

"Whatever, I don't care." She scowled, though it was obvious she  _did_  care, so much. "Just don't get so caught up in your kumbaya, marshmallow roasting bullshit that you forget why we're really there."

"Right, like you'd let us."

When Mercedes brought the food over, Sam did some more of his painful flirting, and much to Quinn's ire (though Brittany wasn't sure  _why_ , since it was pretty much a given anyway) invited her on the camping trip, promising he'd explain the details later, if it was cool that he called her. Brittany didn't pay much attention to their interaction, she just doused more hot sauce on her already spicy Area 51 burger and basically inhaled it in three bites. Of course, she knew if she darted up from the table and around back immediately, she'd not only hear it from Quinn, she'd possibly arouse suspicion, so she waited, her whole body aching to see Santana, aching to see with her own eyes that she was okay.

* * *

When they had  _finally_  finished (Brittany was convinced that Quinn intentionally ate more slowly than usual, just to drive her insane), Brittany tossed Sam the keys to the car, and when they walked out of the diner, did a quick scan of her surroundings before slipping into the alley next door and over to the ladder than led up to the balcony of Santana's bedroom. Brittany didn't waste any time climbing up, figuring she'd be in an  _extremely_  awkward, and potentially dangerous situation if she got caught by Javier Lopez, and when she made it up there, she gave a quick tap against the window, before sliding it open and slipping inside.

"Hi." Santana stirred from sleep at the sound of Brittany's feet, her heart quickening, and a slow smile appearing on her face at the other girl's presence.

"Sorry I woke you up." Brittany frowned, kicking off her shoes and finally setting her backpack down, tentatively taking a seat on the edge of Santana's bed, not wanting to jostle her whole she was in pain.

"S'okay. I've been sleeping half the day away." Santana slurred a little, breathing much easier once it didn't feel like her body was on fire with every inhalation, but  _definitely_  sounding a little woozy from the painkillers. Her eyes locked with Brittany's, and she felt all the air leave her body, the shuddering relief she needed finally coming to her, seeing her alien in the flesh, with her own eyes, knowing she was truly safe. "Come closer. I need to...I just need you near me."

"Okay." Brittany felt the smile spread wide across her face, and slowly, carefully, she moved toward Santana, cupping one cheek with her hand and pressing the softest of kisses on her lips. "I was so scared when I knew you got hurt."

"I was so scared when I thought...when I felt how terrified you were." Tears filled Santana's eyes, and as they rolled down her cheeks, Brittany brushed them away with her lips. "I'm so mad at you for going in there."

"I didn't have a choice. They needed help."

"Yeah. I know. I'm not  _really_  mad at you, I just...I can't handle thinking something bad could happen to you, it hurts me so much, more than these...stupid ribs."

"Santana." Brittany shifted her body so she was lying down, cradling the injured girl's face against her chest. "I understand that, I do. But I can't promise something bad won't ever happen to me."

"I know." She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the visions that kept coming to mind.

"But I can promise that I'll fight like hell to try and prevent it."

"Okay. I can handle that."

"Thank you, for understanding. I'm really sorry you got hurt today in the midst of all this. How are you feeling?"

"Right now, I'm not feeling much." Santana tried to joke, absently indicating the bottle of medication on her nightstand. "Just really happy you're...here."

"Can I...see how bad it is?" Brittany asked tentatively, and Santana nodded slowly, letting go of Brittany's hand so she could sit back up.

Tenderly, and with her eyes closed, Brittany peeled Santana's black t-shirt back from her stomach, little by little, exposing her skin. When she finally felt her fingertips brush the underside of Santana's breast (making the human girl shudder, even though she knew there should be nothing arousing about Brittany assessing her injuries), Brittany opened her eyes, trying to keep her gasp inside, trying to keep tears from springing to her eyes when she saw the yellow ringed purple and black bruise that spread from below Santana's left breast, across the entire side of her rib cage and down almost to her belly button. Pale fingers twitched, aching to take the pain away, aching to return the beautiful skin to it's previous caramel color, but she knew that she couldn't. Instead, she traced the very tips over the injury, feeling for herself that no ribs were broken, feeling that Santana would really be okay. When Brittany finished and brought her lips down to ghost just above the lowest rib. Below her, she felt Santana shiver, and fearing that she'd hurt her, Brittany quickly looked up and was met with dark, tear filled eyes and a tiny nod, urging her to continue. Once she was sure that it was okay, Brittany placed featherlight kisses over the entirety of the area, hoping, somehow, that they'd dull the pain when the medication wore off.

"I wish I could fix it." Brittany lamented, returning Santana's shirt to normal and accepting the kiss she could tell the human wanted to give her.

"I know you do." Santana's voice was surprisingly raspy, the effects of watching Brittany kiss her body so reverently having an obvious effect on her. "But since my mom practically gave me a shower today, and everyone saw me fall, it's not a good idea."

"Yeah. But the doctor said you're okay?"

"He did." She told Brittany, although she'd already told her in a text message, she understood that sometimes you just needed to hear the words out loud. "Roz is going to be pissed- well,  _more_  pissed, because I'm benched until further notice, but the x-rays were fine, and it doesn't look like there's any internal bleeding. I mean, he told me the symptoms to watch for, and my mom is being like a hawk, so it'll be okay."

"Okay, good."

"You could...nevermind." Santana trailed off, feeling a little foolish.

"What?"

"Stay the night. I mean, if you wanted to. My mom swore she would let me sleep...until morning. But, you don't have to feel like you have to, or anything."

"I'd like to, a lot." Brittany smiled softly, and Santana brought her fingers up to her lips to kiss them. "If you're feeling up to it, I want to show you...everything."

"Wait, what." Santana sputtered a little bit, because as much as she'd love to, she didn't want to see  _everything_  when she couldn't touch, and taste, and- then she realized, everything from Hummel's _obviously_ , and her cheeks flamed. "Right, I'm sorry, I totally forgot, you're just here, and I get all..." She waved her hands around a little and Brittany just grinned at how Santana could be laid up in bed, sort of high on pain killers, and still be the most adorable creature she'd ever seen. "I want to see everything you got, and hear...what you've figured out, and what's next."

Temporarily detaching herself from Santana, although the alien girl found it so hard, because drugged up Santana was so sweetly clingy, and she mostly just wanted to hold her until she felt better, Brittany followed Santana's instructions on where to find some sweats to change into and locked the bedroom door. After going into the bathroom to change into Santana's clothes (Santana was grateful she'd done that, she wasn't sure she could handle seeing a naked Brittany, her breathing had finally gone back to somewhat normal after the fall), she got back up into the bed, and Santana, who'd turned on the television as an extra precaution to cover their speaking, curled up against her body, immediately finding that place for her head to rest against Brittany's chest. So cautiously, Brittany opened her backpack, sliding the history book out and opening it to the center, revealing Hummel's father's notes.

"My grandfather was friends with him." Santana said softly, trailing her left pointer over  _Summer, 1947_  printed in careful hand on yellowed paper. "He wanted him to stop talking about the aliens, said he should let it go...or he was going to get himself locked up."

"It's sort of sad, you know? His whole life's work written off like insanity."

"I'm glad it was though. If they took him seriously..."

"Yeah." Brittany nodded, knowing the end of Santana's thought. "Only three of the people he suspected are still alive. I guess we just hope that one of them really is the fourth alien."

"How do we even start?"

"We found where they live." Brittany pulled out the list with the addresses that she, Sam and Quinn had created. "Quinn wants to go on the school camping trip next week, we can walk out to this guy." She pointed to Bamboo's name. "Mercedes is coming, if you wanted to come too."

"Of course I want to come!" Santana nearly yelped, then covered her mouth quickly, and grasped at her ribs with the other hand. "I'm going to have to beg my mother though, I'm pretty sure she's going to be over...the top with me for the next month or so."

"She's right though, if you're not feeling up to it, you shouldn't come." Brittany couldn't resist the pout that formed of her mouth.

"It's a week away, I'll be fine. Hey, this April woman lives...right by my Aunt Sara."

"Really? Do you know her?"

"No...but I could visit my aunt, and then-"

"Santana, do you really think I'll be okay with you going to check out a potential alien on your own?" Brittany raised her eyebrow, her nerves fraying at just the  _thought_  of that.

"Of course I don't, but what if you came with me?"

"To meet your aunt?"

"Why not?" Santana asked, and Brittany couldn't help but feel giddiness bloom inside of her. Meeting Santana's aunt, that was kind of a big deal, but- "We're really close, like way closer than her and my dad, and she always keeps my secrets. Plus, it's outside of Roswell...and she doesn't know anyone here. I don't know, it could be like, something  _real_  for us, if you wanted...to. And then we could go see what the deal is with April Rhodes."

"Okay. I'd really, really like that. And maybe we can find some way to get Quinn and Sam to check out Goolsby, that way I don't have to hear it from her that she's not being included."

"That's perfect. We'll cover more ground. Brittany, we might...really find them, really soon."

"I know." Santana's wide, though tired grin was infectious, and Brittany couldn't help but smile as well after she pointed it out. "Thank you so much for encouraging this, and for being a part of it. I know you don't have to, but it makes me really happy to have you along."

"It makes me happy too. I want you to know this stuff, you...deserve to. Sam and Quinn too. And now that you and I have this...whatever it is that makes me see your memories, and makes us feel each other's pain, I kind of want to know for me too."

"Yeah, I don't...I wish I had the answers right now, especially for that, but I don't know." Brittany shrugged, looking away briefly, though she still continued trailing her fingers up and down Santana's arm. "This was also in the safe."

Santana watched as Brittany liberated the pendant from the pocket of her backpack, handling it like it was a newborn baby. It was beautiful, by far the most beautiful thing Santana had ever seen in her life (well, with the exception of a certain blonde alien), and something deep within her actually ached to touch it. Surprising herself, and momentarily forgetting about the supernatural barrier that had prevented Quinn and Sam from touching the piece, Brittany slowly extended her hand, moving the jewel closer to Santana. With the most cautious tip of her finger, as if she feared she'd do irreparable harm to it, Santana reached out, stroking the pure yellow stone, and looking into Brittany's eyes as she did so.

"You can touch it." Brittany marveled, her voice scarcely above a whisper. "It's letting you touch it. Quinn and Sam, they-"

"Britt, look." Santana gasped, interrupting her as a citrine glow emanated from the center of the stone, bathing both of their faces in golden light. "What is it doing?"

"I don't…I don't know." Brittany's eyes were wide, taken aback by what Santana's touch had caused. "See if you can hold it. But be careful, it, it  _zapped_  Quinn and Sam when they tried."

"Okay." She breathed, holding out a shaking hand for Brittany.

Almost glacially, Brittany lifted the necklace from her own palm and placed it into Santana's. The glowing continued, seeming brighter somehow, even if it truly wasn't, and Brittany wanted to burn the picture of Santana's awestruck, yellow-hued face into her memory forever, believing that she'd never again see something so amazing, like the dark haired girl was the moon, the stars, the sun, _everything_  all wrapped up in one. Santana's eyes slipped closed, and Brittany was gripped, for only a fraction of a second, by fear, until she saw the expression of pure, unadulterated bliss take over her features.

Almost as if if the stone were an extension of Brittany, Santana felt those familiar tingles begin, and she knew she was about to see something from another world. She was glad that so much of her body was still touching Brittany, glad that she could lean some of her weight into her (she was still weak, and maybe the medication made her more susceptible to the flashes, she wasn't sure), but she gave herself fully to the power, happy to see those gorgeous yellow skies again when her eyes slipped closed. Off in the distance again, Santana could see those beings, this time, the forms of only two, pressed together to become almost  _one_. Instead of radiating grief, like the others had, those two gave off an aura that Santana wasn't sure she could describe, something pure, something so beautiful that it was almost painful. She watched for a long while, entranced by it, until she suddenly felt like she had to snap her eyes back open and pull away from that world, beginning to feel that she was intruding on some special moment that didn't belong to her.

"It's the same color as the sky." Santana told Brittany absently, because she just didn't know what else to say, and she couldn't stop picturing those beautiful, happy forms under the same light that was radiating from the pendant. "That's what it looks like on your planet. The little sparkly flecks and everything."

"Beautiful." Brittany murmured, not just talking about the sky, but thinking about how essentially, she was looking at what Santana would look like on her planet, bathed in that xanthous glow.

"I think your kind must experience emotions that are really, really intense. This time it was…happy isn't the word I can use, Britt. I saw…something through this thing, and  _these_  beings were like…just _beyond_."

" _Wow_. I wish I could  _feel_  it." Brittany, for some reason, pressed her palm against Santana's heart, as if maybe somehow, in feeling it beat, she could understand more fully what she was trying to describe.

"Why didn't this try to keep me away like it did to the others?"

"Add it to the ever growing list of things I have no idea about." Brittany shrugged. "Maybe it's because I  _wanted_  you to touch it. For some reason, I don't know, I really felt possessive about it around Quinn and Sam. I don't know why, but I just felt like they weren't supposed to touch it. But you, you're  _different_. I don't even know why I feel this way, but I feel like if I could, if I didn't think it would get us all in a whole world of trouble, I'd  _give_  it to you, I'd want you to wear it, because I- I care about you. A lot."

"I  _care_  about you too." Santana felt another word on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't say it, as true as the feeling resonated in her heart was. Instead, she just took Brittany's hand from her chest and pressed the stone against her own skin there for the briefest instant (an action she wasn't sure why she needed to perform) before giving it back. "Maybe someday…"

"Yeah." Brittany exhaled sharply, wishing for that someday. "I wish it wasn't broken. I wonder how it happened."

"It makes me feel...I don't know, sad." Santana ran her finger over the broken links of the chain, feeling a strange twisting in the pit of her stomach as she did.

"Maybe I'll try to fix it...eventually. Right now though, I need to figure out where to hide all of this. Sam is losing his mind, Hummel came over, and-"

"Hummel came over?" Santana gasped, the momentary bliss she'd felt with Brittany broken as reality came crashing back down upon her.

"He told us about the break-in, and that nothing was stolen."

"Right. Because none of this exists."

"He's trying to scare us, and we're just trying to act normal, which is getting harder and harder as things become increasingly  _not_  normal."

"What, glowing stones from far off galaxies and free flow of pain and emotions between you and some human girl isn't  _normal_  anymore?" Santana joked a little, and Brittany couldn't fight the smile that came to her face as Santana tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "There's a loose brick in the wall under my night stand. If you want, you can put everything in...there, and like, seal it up so no one can get in but you. I mean, I know it won't be that close to you, and I'm not sure if-"

"Thank you." Brittany cut her off, giving her the softest kiss on the corner of her mouth, and looking into her eyes, trying to make her understand the magnitude of her gratitude for that. "You…I trust you to keep it safe."

"And you'll have another reason to come over here, to visit it, or whatever."

"I don't think I need another reason to be here."

Lowering Santana back onto her mountain of pillows, Brittany got up from the bed, careful not to jostle the injured girl, even though the painkillers were still working to mask the pain of the harsh bruising. She lied flat on her stomach on the floor and slid out the brick, reaching her hand inside to feel how much space was in the small hole. Satisfied that everything would fit, she pushed the folder in, then squeezed the pendant one last time (no longer glowing, Brittany noted, finding it  _so_  strange that it only did so under Santana's touch) before lying it on top and setting the brick back in it's place. Though she was sure she'd feel some sense of loss, leaving behind what they'd worked so hard to get, Brittany was strangely contented, knowing that it would be right below where Santana slept, knowing that while she trusted Quinn and Sam with her life, there was just something about the human girl that she trusted  _more_ , and it (especially the necklace) would be safe in her care.

"You really should rest, like the doctor said." Brittany told Santana, after she'd sealed off the wall and got back into bed, letting Santana use her body as a human pillow to get more comfortable, glad that her head fell back against her heart.

"Mmhmm. I know." She hummed contentedly, taking Brittany's hand and playing with her fingers as sleep edged her voice. She knew they needed to talk more, knew that she needed to tell Brittany about Kurt, knew they needed to make plans to go to Sara's, but it could happen in the morning, after she rested. "Thanks for staying with me, I just want to know that you're here."

"I'm here, and tomorrow we'll start figuring all the rest of it out." She kissed a warm forehead, and quicker than she'd expected, Santana, hearing what she needed, drifted off into sleep, comfortable hearing Brittany's heart beat, comfortable with her fingers intertwined with Brittany's that rested over her sensitive ribs. Brittany closed her own eyes, feeling oh so much better than she had all day, having Santana safe in her arms, knowing that just for the night, they were far enough off from all that lie ahead, isolated, if only for a few hours, from what was sure to be more suspicion from Hummel. "Good night, Santana."


	9. Ruidoso

The remainder of Santana's weekend was spent primarily in bed, primarily with her mother breathing down her neck, and primarily trying to convince said mother that she was  _fine,_ a rough feat, considering she was still having some difficulty breathing, and she still had a nasty bruise just about the size of New Mexico taking up space on her abdomen. In between frequent check-ins from Maribel Lopez, whose adherence to her husband's suggestions was short lived, Santana continuously googled the names on Hummel's list, time and again finding no viable information on the "suspects." It wasn't that she truly expected to (it's not like there was some kind of Internet database of beings from other planets) but she felt powerless in her bed, and all she truly wanted was to be able to do something useful to aid Brittany and the others.

By Monday afternoon, after her mother forced her to stay home from school, Santana resorted to drastic measures, drastic measures that were in no way related to the desire to check in on a woman named after the fourth month of the year, not  _at all._ Holding her breath, she picked up the phone and called her Aunt Sara, hoping maybe, just  _maybe_ the one person in her family who was  _always_ on her side would be able to help her with  _two_ of the tasks she wanted to participate in.

"Thank you for calling the office of Dr. Sara Lopez, how may I help you?" The chipper woman on the other end answered, and Santana couldn't help but smile.

"Aunt Sara! You  _still_ don't have caller ID in your office?"

"I've been doing just fine without if for twenty years, thank you very much. How's my favorite niece?"

"You mean your only niece." Santana retorted, and Sara laughed.

"Trust me, my sugar baby, I could have fifty nieces, and you'd still be my number one. So to what do I owe the honor of this phone call? You're usually too busy with cheerleading, and school, and having to do everything your father tells you to have time to talk to your old aunt."

"Tell me how you really feel." She laughed, always appreciating the fact that her aunt was the  _only_ one who didn't cower to her older brother's expectations, and made no bones about her disagreement with his expectations for Santana. "And I don't believe for a second that no one called you and told you about what my  _mother_ seems to think is a life threatening injury."

"Oh, they called me, I've just been waiting to hear how it  _really_ is from you."

"Hurts like hell." Santana shifted a little uncomfortably in her bed. "But I'm also bored out of my mind, and I want you to tell them that I'll be totally fine if I go on my school camping trip this weekend."

"A camping trip? With bruised ribs? You know how ridiculous that sounds, right?"

"Please, Aunt Sara? It's really,  _really_ important for me to go, and I  _promise_ that I won't do any rock climbing, or kayaking, or whatever it is that people do on camping trips." Santana begged, sounding like a small child.

"Well, the fact that you don't  _know_ what people do on camping trips leads me to believe that this has  _zero_ to do with camping, and a whole lot to do with a girl you've got your eye on." Sara chuckled, and Santana blushed, even though she couldn't be seen through the phone. "Spill it, I want to know everything."

"It's really complicated..."

"Isn't it always? Come on, convince me that you  _need_ to go on this trip, and  _maybe_ I'll use this MD of mine to convince your parents."

"I was actually thinking that maybe I'd come out there, you could  _actually_ look at my stupid ribs, and then you could meet her, if you wanted."

"You want me to meet her? This is more serious than I thought."

"I really...she's really important to me." Santana was shy with her words, but she grinned to herself, thinking of Brittany, thinking of how much she wanted to shout from the rooftops how she felt, but how she  _couldn't._ "It's complicated right now, we can't really be together- _together_ in Roswell, but I thought maybe, I don't know, it would be nice for us to come there for the afternoon and just  _be_ for a little bit, without all kinds of eyes on us."

"Oh, my little Santana, I figured it was only a matter of time before you fell hard for someone that was still in the closet." Sara assumed, and Santana didn't correct her, because that seemed like as good of an excuse as any for why she and Brittany had to be with each other in secret. "She must really be something else."

"She is." Santana mooned. "She's kind of out of this world. You're going to love her."

"Does this  _out of this word,_ important girl who's got you all shmoopy have a name?"

"Brittany. Brittany Pierce."

"Pierce as in-"

"Yeah, Pierce  _as in_." Santana cut her off, forgetting that in their own way, the name recognition of Brittany and Sam Pierce was as great as her own around Roswell, and she began to feel her heart race. "But my parents don't know, and-"

"I've got it, not a word about the little desert girl." Sara promised, calling Brittany by one of the dozen names that she'd been called in the paper. "I'll deal with Maribel, I'll tell her I'd like to see you for myself tomorrow after school. She has bowling on Tuesdays, right?"

"She does, you're the best, Aunt Sara. Thank you, thank you, I love you!"

"I know I am. Glad I can put my eight years of schooling to better use than just treating old men's boils all day. I'll see you and Miss  _Out Of This World_ Brittany Pierce tomorrow then. Love you, sugar baby."

Ending the call, Santana did a tiny, dorky victory dance in her bed, then winced at the pain it caused to radiate down her side and almost into her pelvis, before she flopped back on her pillows and opened a text message to Brittany, excited to tell her that they had an actual valid reason to be in Ruidoso, an actual valid reason to be semi-close to April, though they still had to finalize the plan for knocking on her door that they'd been working on the night before, and secretly even  _more_ excited that her Aunt Sara,  _basically_ her favorite person in the entire world, would get to meet the girl who was coming in at a very close second.

* * *

Brittany was sitting in the front seat of the car, driving back to her house with Sam and Quinn when she got the text message, and she did her  _own_ little dance at the news, garnering a goofy look from Sam, and an epic eye roll from Quinn, that Brittany immediately caught in the makeup mirror than she'd left flipped down. Santana was getting them to Ruidoso, Santana wanted her to meet her aunt, an  _actual_ person who they didn't gave to hide from, and Santana was  _basically_ awesome and amazing at everything (and with that thought, Brittany realized that  _maybe_ Quinn's roll of the eyes wasn't _totally_ unwarranted).

"This actually concerns you too, Quinn." Brittany tried not to snap. "I'm going to Santana's aunt's house tomorrow, and I'm going to check out that April woman."

"You don't think it's a  _little_ obvious, suddenly going there right after we busted into Hummel's office and stole his list?"

"Maybe, if Santana didn't just get seriously injured, and didn't happen to have an aunt who's a  _doctor,_ and  _maybe_ if Hummel actually knew I was going.  _Her_ being there,  _not_ in flashing neon spaceship, is no more obvious than our sudden interest in the camping trip. Look, it doesn't matter, the sheriff already thinks it's me, and there isn't much he can do about it without red flagging himself as another crazy alien hunter. We need to find them before he does."

"When did you become the boss of this anyway?"

"When I came up with the plan. If it's not April, and it's not the guy on the reservation, then you guys can go to Las Cruces next week, and I'll cover things here. But right now, this is what's happening, and I don't really care what you have to say about it,  _Quinn."_

"You know, Brittany, you suddenly have more balls than I give you credit for." Quinn sat back in her seat, unable to come up with a retort. "I'm not going to lie and say I'm not impressed."

"Well thanks. But can you maybe  _not_ say that balls thing in front of Santana? I think you already freaked her out a little when you said that thing about me thinking with my dick."

"Britt." Sam cut in with a chuckle. "I'm pretty sure you could grow a dick in the middle of your face, and Santana would still be in  _love_ with you."

"First,  _gross,_ Sam, seriously. Second, she's not in  _love_ with me."

"Right. She practically drools when you speak, she's  _so_ in love with you." Sam singsonged. "Brittany and Santana, sitting in a tree-"

"Seriously,  _stop."_ Quinn groaned. "You're not five years old, and I'd personally rather hear about the penis face than hear you sing that ridiculous song. Whatever, go to your girlfriend's doctor's appointment with her like you're some old, married,  _boring_ couple, but if you even have an  _inkling_ that this lady is the fourth alien, you better call us immediately, because you  _don't_ get to have everything to yourself."

"Do you really think I would do that? Of course I'm going to call you, I don't even know the  _first_ thing that I'd do if she's the one. You're much better at questions than I am, Quinn, and this isn't  _my_ find, it's just the most feasible that I check it out first." Brittany dropped the defensiveness and tried to disarm Quinn. "Look, Santana's parents obviously don't know I'm going, because I'm pretty sure they don't even know my name. She's going to borrow her mom's car and drive there, so I'll come up with an excuse for mom and dad, and then you guys need to keep an eye on Hummel. You're just as much a part of it as I am."

"And you're like, really meeting Santana's aunt?" Sam asked, sort of changing the subject before Quinn could throw something back at Brittany, and they could continue on for hours, debating the merits of a plan that seemed perfectly fine to him. "I mean, I know that's not really the big issue here right now, but it's still kind of big for you, Britt."

"I know." Brittany gave him a half smile, as Quinn shoved headphones into her ears, not wanting to hear yet  _another_ round of the Santana gushing. "I mean, this lady is closer to her than even her _mom,_ and she wants her to meet  _me._ I don't even know what to wear, or how to act, or anything. She said that we'll be outside of Roswell, and it can be something  _real_ for us. What does that even mean, Sam?"

"It means she's got it  _bad_ for you, sis, it means she totally wants to marry you and have a dozen little tiny half-alien babies with you." Sam teased, and Brittany smacked his bicep. "Ow. Look, just be yourself, I mean, don't  _really_ be yourself, because not everyone is Santana Lopez, who barely flinched when you told her you were descended from a line of little green men, but you know what I mean. She wouldn't be bringing you there if she wasn't  _crazy_ about who you are. Also, don't wear a dress, because it looks like you're trying too hard."

"How do you  _know_ this stuff?" Brittany furrowed her brow, and Sam's cheeks colored.

"Look, sometimes I watch chick flicks, okay? I figure  _that_ is the way to get to the ladies."

"Says the guy who just told me to be myself. Mercedes thinks your dorkiness is cute, Santana told me so herself, and she  _also_ told me that I could tell you that. Just give her some time. Like you said, some people still need time to adjust to this  _not of this earth_ thing."

"Thanks, Britt." Sam smiled and threw a look back to Quinn. "So what do you think the odds are that the fourth alien comes with someone for her, so she can chill out a little?"

"I can hear you, dumbass." Quinn snipped. "And if they  _did,_ I can promise you, I wouldn't be sitting here talking about  _what to wear to meet the family_ while we're literally moments away from finding out everything we've ever wanted to know about our existence."

"Sometimes existence is more than just knowing about the past." Brittany said quietly, not really wanting to anger the beast, but also wanting her to think about it. "Sometimes it's about trying to make a future."

"Okay, Yoda, I'll keep that in mind." Quinn tried to sound harsh, but both Sam and Brittany could hear the slightest softness, an almost sense of wist behind it, and they exchanged the briefest eye contact, having one of those rare, rare moments where they thought maybe, just  _maybe_ the third member of their trio wasn't as different from them as she liked them to believe (and that she most likely convinced  _herself_ to believe).

* * *

Neither was sure how it had become a thing, those visits where Brittany would sneak into Santana's room after dark, and they'd stay up late and talk (and kiss, but nothing too hot and heavy, nothing enough to make Santana see things, because Brittany was so concerned about the human girl's injury), and then Santana would anxiously wait for the text message that told her that Brittany was home safe in her  _own_ bed, but it had, and after yet another, Santana spent her first day back at school a little bleary-eyed and guzzling coffee, glad that her doctor's note excused her from gym class, and she could have the entire period to nap in the nurse's office. After she finished biology class, where the majority of the period was spend attempting  _mostly_ unsuccessfullyto ignore the burning feeling of Brittany's eyes on the back of her neck (Brittany, who looked radiant and alive as usual, though Santana wasn't sure how), Santana made her way down the hall, and pushed open the door to the office.

"Welcome to the school nurse, how can I be of medical service to you today?" A saccharine cheery blonde greeted her, and Santana was take aback.

"Um, you're not the nurse." Tumbled out of her mouth, before she could control herself, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

"Well that's no way to greet me." The woman pouted,  _actually_ pouted. "She took a fall down the stairs the other day, and it was just  _lucky_ enough that my fiancé just got transferred into this district and told me about the job opening. I'm Terri, or, I guess you're supposed to call me Nurse Delmonico."

"Right, okay. I'm Santana Lopez, my name is supposed to be on a list, or something. I have to sit out from gym, there's a doctor's note on file."

"Oh so  _you're_ Santana. Excellent. Do you want some pain killers? Or maybe some vitamins? I even have a stool softener." Terri lowered her voice to a whisper. "You know, it's not good if you strain when you have business to do, especially when you're already injured."

"I'm sorry, no offense, but are you actually a nurse? Because I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to just offer me a bunch of pills."

"How rude of you to ask that!" She looked scandalized, and sat down at the desk, pulling out a nail file, and Santana figured as much. "Of  _course_ I'm not a nurse. I'm just doing this until my fiancé finally takes a break from his busy career and we make things official, then I'm done with this  _working_ business. Bryan's got a great job, I'll have you know, working for the New Mexico State Board of Education, and he has  _excellent_ insurance, so when we have babies, I won't have to pay a single dime."

"That's, um, that's really great for you." Santana nodded, understanding more fully  _why_ they'd actually let her take over as a nurse, with pull from someone on the state board, though  _not_ entirely comfortable with it. While the woman continued to stare at her with a forced smile, Santana was completely stumped as to what she was supposed to say to someone who seemed like she might be just a few cards short of a full deck. "So, I'm just going to lay down now."

"So then you don't want any of those pills?"

"No, I'm good, thanks for offering."

As Santana lied down on the mostly uncomfortable cot and closed her eyes, she thought about the afternoon ahead, thought about how her aunt would take to Brittany, and then came to the crippling realization that it might not even  _matter_ what Sara thought, that maybe  _none_ of what was going on between her and Brittany would actually matter. If April, or Howard, or Dustin, or  _whoever_ the fourth alien turned out to be told them that they were here for some higher purpose, that they weren't here simply by force of accident, that Brittany had  _bigger_ things to do than make Santana see stars, almost purely by existing, if they told them that they had to  _leave_ earth, leave the only life they remembered, then Santana wasn't sure  _how_ she could cope. Feeling a little sick to her stomach at the thought, Santana almost wished she didn't feel so attached, almost wished that she wasn't falling hard and fast for that incredible alien girl, but she knew it didn't matter, knew that it was too late, and knew that if she was ripped away from her, her heart, her soul, her very being might never recover. At the thought, the very  _terror_ of the notion, she let out a deep, involuntary sigh, and she heard the pretend nurse stand and walk over to look at her.

"You're not dying, are you? Because I really don't want to have to deal with a body on my first day here."

"No, I'm not  _dying."_ Santana rolled her eyes, because  _seriously?_

"Oh, good! Then you're probably thinking what I'm thinking, that it's really weird that we're both in here together and not saying a  _word_ to each other."

"Ummm..."

"So since you know about my fiancé, Bryan Ryan, why don't you tell me about yourself." Terri sat down beside Santana on the crinkled white paper, and the younger girl stifled a groan. "Do  _you_ have a boyfriend?"

"Uh, yeah, listen, I don't really know you well enough to talk about this." Santana sat up and distanced herself. "Actually, I don't even know you  _at all."_

"Well that's no reason not to indulge in a little girl talk. Besides, it's like, doctor-patient privilege, or something, I can't tell anyone anything you tell me anyway. I mean, I might tell my sister, but that doesn't count, because we're twins, so we're basically the same person."

"Yeah, you haven't really made me feel  _any_ more comfortable about this. Sorry, no offense."

"According to your doctor's note, you're out of gym for  _at least_ two weeks, with another note to follow. I'll wear you down eventually. Maybe tomorrow I'll bring some spinach dip, that seems like fun." Terri offered. "Do you like spinach dip?"

"Umm…yeah, I guess." Santana raised an eyebrow, actually feeling  _bad_ for the woman so desperate for companionship that she was dying to talk to a teenager, but not bad enough that she'd actually start telling her anything revealing. "Okay, do you watch  _The Real Housewives?_ Because we can talk about that."

"Oh my God, of  _course_ I do. Can you  _believe_ what Ramona did to Aviva?"

* * *

They continued like that for the rest of the period, with Santana avoiding Terri's strangely invasive questions by directing her back to pop culture, and she breathed a sigh of relief when the bell rang, and she'd never been so happy to get back to class. By the end of the day though, the encounter was almost entirely forgotten, as was the bout of panic she'd experienced about what  _might_  happen. When she pulled her mom's car up to where she was meeting Brittany, nothing else mattered but getting that girl in the car with her, nothing else mattered but driving far enough out of Roswell that she could full on kiss the blonde on the lips, without worrying about anyone seeing them, and Santana felt her entire body tingle at the mere thought of it.

"Hi." Brittany beamed as she climbed into the passenger seat. "How was your first day back? How are you feeling? Are you sure you're okay to drive all the way to Ruidoso?"

"Want to throw in like five more questions?" Santana teased, subtly upturning her hand on the center console, a silent signal that Brittany immediately read, placing her hand on top and lacing their fingers together, making both girls feel better than they had in the nineteen hours they'd been apart (not that  _either_ of them were counting). "Good, okay, and yes."

"Hmm?" Brittany had fallen into a momentary trance, staring at Santana, and the human girl just laughed. "Oh, the answers to my questions."

"You're such a goof. Of course the answers to your questions. How was your day?"

"Much better now." She squeezed Santana's hand, and those tingles came back in full force. "You're sure you want to do this? You don't have to feel like you need to do something that could be dangerous, just because you want to help me."

"Britt, a million armed aliens couldn't keep me away."

" _Not_ funny." Brittany scowled, and then softened at the sparkle in Santana's eye. "If there are a million armed aliens and you don't run, I'm leaving you there."

"So rude, so rude Pierce."

They rode in a comfortable silence for awhile, Santana internally noting how her pain really  _did_ feel less when Brittany was close by, and Brittany just watching Santana's every move, enjoying the deep, furrowed brow look of concentration on her face as she drove. When they were about ten minutes out into the desert, Brittany gave Santana a quizzical look as she pulled the car to the side of the road, and Santana just grinned, turning as best as she could in her seat so that they were facing one another.

"Santana, what are we-" Brittany's question was immediately cut off by soft lips on hers, and if it had been anyone other than Santana, she would had been mortified at the gasp she released simply from the mere swipe of a tongue against her lower lip.

"Hi." Santana giggled, breathless, as she left just a hair of space between their lips when she pulled away. "We're stopping because I couldn't wait any longer to do that. You look really, really pretty."

"Thanks." Brittany blushed furiously, tucking her hair behind her ear and then brushing her lips over Santana's again. "I didn't really know what to wear, and I wanted to impress your aunt, so..."

"It's perfect. You're really...beautiful, and please don't worry about Aunt Sara. She's like the coolest person you'll ever meet, and she's going to love you Britt." It was Santana's turn to blush, feeling funny at the use of that word, even if she  _wasn't_ saying it the way she maybe, kind of, sort of was starting to feel, even if she was pretty sure that was  _insane._

"Okay. I'm sure I'm going to  _love_ her too. I just know that she's really important to you, so it's important to me."

"You really are the cutest." Santana slowly, reluctantly pulled away, knowing that they really needed to get going, knowing that they were already pushing their luck with Maribel Lopez not losing her mind, especially with the time their second stop would take, and if she kissed Brittany again, she might not be able to stop.

* * *

The remaining hour of their drive passed quickly, with Santana remembering the ridiculousness of the Terri Delmonico incident, and making Brittany genuinely belly laugh with her impressions of the woman offering to make spinach dip, and Brittany taking pride in her ability to make Santana smile so wide that her dimples popped. While Brittany was still nervous in the passenger seat, she was also beyond glad to have a distraction from something that she knew she should be  _more_ worrisome about, the thing that threatened to alter her existence far more than meeting Santana's aunt, and having Santana's hand to squeeze worked wonders at calming her significantly about  _both._ When they reached Sara Lopez's house, after driving up into significantly higher altitudes, Brittany was surprised by what she saw, surprised that the sister of Santana's father, who seemed to love being right in the center of small-town life, could possibly live so isolated from that in what was basically a large, modern cabin on the side of a mountain.

"I know." Santana smiled, almost reading Brittany's mind. "This is why I love coming here, it's nothing like home."

"Yeah, I can tell. It's pretty amazing."

"C'mon, let's go inside, it's even better in there." Santana opened the door to her car, and before Brittany could even gather her thoughts, appeared at her side, opening the door for her, and shyly holding out her hand. "Only if you feel comfortable."

"I do. I feel more comfortable holding your hand than doing almost anything else." Brittany murmured, then almost immediately mentally smacked herself for sounding like  _Sam._ "I'm sorry, that sounded like such a  _line,_ and was awful."

"I hope it was still true though." Santana shrugged, and pecked Brittany's cheek, not even needing to hear her answer before leading her up to the door and ringing the bell.

"Santana? If that's you, come inside, the door is open! If it's not you, I lied, the door is locked and I have an angry guard dog behind it, and I also have a gun." A voice called from inside, and Brittany's eyes widened as Santana laughed.

"Aunt Sara, please don't scare Brittany before she even meets you." She swung open the door and tugged Brittany into the living room, where the tall, dark haired woman who looked more like an older version of Santana than Brittany could have ever expected stood at the stove, stirring one pot furiously as the other burned on the back burner. "Are you cooking? You don't even know how to cook!"

"You also don't even bring guests with you to see me, besides Mercedes, but she doesn't count. I thought maybe I'd try something out for this occasion, and it failed miserably. When you get home to your father, tell him this can be added to the list of reasons why it's a  _damn_ good thing I didn't go into the Lopez family business." Sara turned around and pushed the hair out of her face, her eyes lighting up when she saw Brittany. "Come hug me, sugar baby, then introduce me to your  _friend._ _"_

"Shut up." Santana laughed into her aunt's ear, wrapping her arms around her and hugging her gently, careful with her ribs. "Aunt Sara, this is my…this is Brittany." She quickly corrected herself before saying something presumptuous, and she didn't catch the flicker of excitement in Brittany's eyes. "Britt, this is my aunt, Sara Lopez."

"Dr. Lopez, thank you so much for having me over, you really didn't have to go through any trouble cooking for me, I'm just really glad to be able to meet you."

"Don't you  _Dr. Lopez_ me, Brittany." Sara hugged Brittany, taking her completely by surprise. "I'm just Aunt Sara to everyone, or Sara, if you think that's too personal."

"Okay, Aunt Sara." Brittany tried out, blushing, all the while making Santana feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy inside. "It's really nice out here, I love your house."

"It's about as different from Roswell as you can get, isn't it?" She turned off the stove and ushered the girls over to the love seat (with Santana rolling her eyes at the wry look on her face). "Santana, lift up your shirt."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now. Do you want to go camping this weekend or not? Let me see to what degree your mother is exaggerating this." Sara coaxed, standing in front of them, and Santana stopped the subtle running of her finger up and down the outside of Brittany's thigh long enough to lean against the back of the couch and slowly drag up the hem of her t-shirt. Brittany didn't want to look, she  _really_ didn't want to, because it caused her physical pain to see what she couldn't heal, but she couldn't tear her eyes away, and Santana turned quickly to look into them. "It's getting better."

"It still looks really bad." Brittany mumbled, and then gasped at herself, realizing that Santana's aunt was going to think that she'd seen her naked, and while she wanted to (God, she wanted to  _so_ bad), that was  _not_ the kind of first impression she'd wanted to make. "I asked her to show me it, because she was in so much pain, and…"

"Brittany, relax. It doesn't matter to me  _why_ you've seen it, I'm glad she has  _you_  keeping an eye on it, because my niece is as stubborn as they come, and she'd probably lose an arm and still try to tell me she's fine. You two are teenagers, I didn't need to go to medical school to learn about hormones."

"Ew, Aunt Sara." Santana scrunched up her nose, but her mind was immediately cleared when Sara pressed against her ribs, and she squealed in pain, clamping her hand down on Brittany's, and making her shake with the pain she felt osmotically. "Ugh, that hurts."

"No,  _really?_ Santana, it looks like someone took a baseball bat to your side. You made it through today without taking any painkillers?"

"Just Tylenol…I wanted to drive, so-"

"Santana, I would have driven here, or we could have come another day. I didn't even  _think_ about the painkillers." Brittany suddenly felt awful for not even realizing that Santana wouldn't have been able to take them, but Santana quickly took up her hand again and rubbed her thumb on the inside of her wrist.

"Britt, if it was really bad, I would have taken one, I'm okay, as long as no one is jabbing me there." She glared at Sara. "But thank you, for worrying about me. If it gets bad later, I have them with me, and you can drive home, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Brittany agreed softly, almost forgetting where they were, almost leaning over and pressing a kiss to the corner of Santana's mouth, before she thought better of it and backed away. "But seriously, don't push yourself too much, please."

"She's right. I'm going to tell your mother you can go this weekend, but don't be an idiot."

After Santana's examination was done, and Sara tossed her ruined pots in the trash, she came to sit with the girls, smiling to herself about their attempts (and failures) at being subtle with how much they cared for one another. When she caught Brittany glancing around at the pictures in the house, ones that just so happened to be of young Santana, she not-so-discreetly pulled out one of her old photo albums, and smirked a little to herself as Santana squirmed in her seat. While Brittany gently flipped through the pages of the album, Sara told her about why she called her niece  _sugar baby,_ about how even when her father complained that she was difficult and cried all the time, the moment she was in Aunt Sara's arms, she was as sweet as could be, and she'd tease her brother, telling him that it was all  _him,_ that little Santana was always as sweet as sugar for her. When Brittany came to a page with pictures from the turn of the millennium celebration at the diner (long before she herself had emerged from incubation), she laughed out loud, finding one of a two year old Santana wearing those brightly colored glasses, shaped like the number 2000, sitting on the counter and pressing her tiny lips to an inflatable alien's cheek. Though Santana's cheeks burned, when Brittany reached down and squeezed her hand, sending shivers up her spine, she ended up laughing right along, appreciating her young self's interest in aliens as much as Brittany did.

"I like her." Sara said, after Brittany excused herself go use the bathroom. "I like her a lot. She's good for you."

"You do?" An involuntary smile crept onto Santana's lips, and she turned her head just slightly toward the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah, I do. I've never seen you like this, when you're here with your father, you're usually strung so tightly, and when you're here without him, you're usually angry about something he's expecting of you. Today, you haven't even mentioned him once, and you're just easy going and  _happy."_

"Well, I've been sort of avoiding Papí, you know how it is, college application deadlines are coming up."

"And you're supposed to follow the plan, no matter what it is that you want."

"Yeah." Santana shrugged, picking at her fingernails. "Aunt Sara, I thought I was just going to do it, because it was easy, and it was safe, but what if I don't know what I want anymore?"

"You don't know how to tell him you might not live his dreams for you? Because you know that I've been telling you since you were twelve that I'd help you make it happen, that I'd give you whatever you needed to go to New York, or California, or the moon, if that's what you wanted. You don't have to spend your whole life in Roswell, just because that's what  _Lopezes do."_

"I know." Santana lowered her voice to a whisper, and looked again over her shoulder. "It's just, for the first time in my life, I have someone in that town who looks at me like I'm someone other than Javier Lopez's daughter, someone who looks at me like I'm so, so special, and it makes me feel like I really  _can_ do special things, but I'm just not sure yet what it is that I want to do, or if I really want to leave at all."

"You love her."

"What? I...we aren't even officially together, and we haven't even been doing  _this_ for very long, and no one back at home knows, well, except for 'Ce, and Brittany's brother and her...friend."

"None of those things are required for you to love someone. I understand that it's complicated, and maybe you feel like it's way too fast, but I also know you pretty well, and I'm sitting here watching the way you look at her, the way your voice softens, just a little bit, when you speak to her, the way you get so flustered when she says something to compliment you. Honey, it's okay to love her, because I think it's pretty obvious that she loves you too."

Before Santana could respond, Brittany was walking down the hall, a big smile on her face, and Santana felt that fluttery feeling again, that feeling she'd been sort of afraid to have, that feeling that her aunt had called straight out.  _Love,_ she couldn't believe that she actually  _loved_ Brittany already, but when she watched the girl adjust her suspenders, watched her carefully avoid tripping and breaking one of the many artifacts Sara had picked up from her travels around the world, when she thought about the way her whole world felt complete with just a simple graze of fingers, she knew without a doubt it was true, even if she wasn't yet sure what she was supposed to do with that solidified knowledge, and she could only hope two things. The first being that Sara was right, and Brittany  _did_ love her two, and the second being that whatever happened in the coming days and weeks with the hunt for the fourth alien wouldn't leave her shattered entirely.

* * *

They stayed only a little while longer, and left with more hugs, and promises that they'd be back to visit soon (and Sara slipping Brittany a copy of that picture of Santana and the alien, and whispering for her to take care of her  _sugar baby_ , because she may seem tough, but she really truly was soft and sweet inside). Both were silent as they made the mile drive to the address they had for April Rhodes, up into an area even more isolated than where Sara was, an area that made perfect sense for a secret alien to live. They'd formulated a plan, maybe not a  _great_ plan, but a plan nonetheless, that they were part of a new club in their high school that offered companionship to people who lived alone, and all they could do was  _hope_ that it would be enough to get them in the door long enough to do some surface investigation.

"Are you alright?" Santana asked, leaning over to brush a few stray hairs out of Brittany's face when they parked at the end of the long driveway.

"Yeah, I'm good, I just, I need a minute."

"Hey, take as long as you need. This is a big thing."

"Santana, before we go in there, I need you to make me a promise." Brittany looked deep into her eyes, making a particular human heart flutter, and Santana nodded slowly. "I know we were joking about it before, but if I tell you to run, I need you to run, I need you to run as fast and as far away as you can, and I need you to not look back."

"Britt-"

"Please,  _please_ promise me that. I  _can't_ go in there with you, if I think you're going to try to do something heroic and insane, if it comes to that."

"But you can?"

"It's different. It's  _so_ different. I have abilities, I can protect myself better than you can, especially now, with you being hurt, and if something happens to  _you_ because of someone like  _me,_ I'll never be able to live with myself. Please."

"Okay." Santana nearly whispered, feeling tears prick the back of her eyes, and immediately trying up push them down and make light of it. "But it's okay, it's fine, even if she is the fourth alien, she's not going to hurt us.  _We come in peace,_ right?"

"Yeah, definitely." Blue eyes swam with conflict, and Brittany brought up one hand to Santana's cheek, rubbing her thumb slowly, reverently over tanned skin before pressing the softest, sweetest of kisses on her mouth, holding it for several seconds, drinking her all in. When she finally pulled away, Brittany swallowed thickly, and steeled her resolve. "Okay, let's go."

Together, fingers brushing, even if they  _weren't_ holding hands, the girls made their way up the driveway. Brittany's heart was hammering in her ears, and her senses were on high alert, her right hand poised to rise up and protect them if need be. When the reached the door, they exchanged a quick look, before Santana pressed the bell, and Brittany subconsciously stepped just the  _slightest_ bit in front of her, waiting for someone to answer. When the door swung open, and a forty-something woman in short-shorts and a cowboy hat was revealed, clutching a wine glass in her hand, Brittany was taken aback, not really sure  _what_ she was expecting, but definitely not  _that._

"Whatever it is you're selling, I'm not interested. Unless it's hooch, or controlled substances." She slurred, spilling a few drops of red liquid on her doormat.

"We're, um, we're actually not selling anything." Santana told her, thinking of the pills in her purse, and wondering if they should change the plan, a thought that Brittany quickly vetoed, reading her mind and giving her a slight shake of the head.

"Well then, whatcha doin' on my porch, interrupting my date with Mr. Cabernet Sauvignon?" The woman attempted a terrible French accent, and Santana wondered for a second whether she was friends with Terri Delmonico, and what the odds were that she could meet  _two_ insane people in the same day.

"We came from the high school." Brittany finally spoke, once she'd finished taking in the strange blonde woman. "We're part of a new club, the, Warm House Committee."

"The Warm House Committee? Now is this some fancy way of saying they're sending pretty ladies like you to keep me a  _special_ kind of company, the kind of company I  _pay_ for, if you know what I'm sayin'?"

"No, no, no." Santana crinkled her eyes and shook her head. "We're not drug dealers, or prostitutes, we're just trying to do the neighborly thing."

"Well then why didn't you say so?" April brightened, and opened the door a little wider. "C'mon in. Can I get you a beverage? I just cracked open a new box of Franzia, I broke the rest of my glasses, but I can get you both some in a paper cup."

"We're in high school." Brittany told her, and no recognition spread across her face. "You know, under age, we can't drink wine, it's the law."

"Who in the heck made a law like that? Oh well, more for me then. Now what did you say your names were?"

"We actually  _didn't._ I'm Santana, and this is Brittany."

"I'm April, April Rhodes, welcome to my humble abode." She stared at the two of them, barely blinking, and Brittany, always nervous about being subjected to any form of scrutiny, fidgeted in her seat. "I think this Warm House Committee thing sounds like a bunch of baloney."

"What? No, it's not, it's-"

"I might pass out and miss the occasional Tuesday, but  _the_ April Rhodes is no fool. You high school kids don't know the first  _thing_ about hospitality, and I'm sure they ain't starting any clubs about it." April paused and took a deep drink from her wine glass. "I know  _exactly_ who you are."

"You-you do?" Brittany's eyes widened, and she clamped a hand down protectively on Santana's thigh, unable to believe that it was happening, unable to believe the answers she'd only just come to realize she needed were sitting three feet from her, swirling a wine class.

"Course I do, you're undercover reporters! Always coming up with new attempts to make me break that little old gag order."

"Reporters? Gag order?" Santana was genuinely confused, and April let out a shrill laugh.

"Don't play coy with  _moi,_ I know you're all itching to get the dirt on my  _alleged_ affair with strip-mall magnate Buddy Leibovitz, you're trying to find out if he really did drop dead while we were doing the dirty, and if his wife really paid me sixteen million dollars, which was used to buy this house. Well guess what missies, I'm not telling you any of it! Not on the record anyway, off the record, it's all true."

"Miss Rhodes, I'm pretty sure if there's a gag order, you can't tell us on  _or_ off the record." Santana reminded her.

"Aw, crap. It's a good thing you're actually the first reporters that have ever came to see me." She sounded almost depressed about it, and she lifted the box from the table to refill her glass.

"We're not actually reporters." Brittany said, speaking in that way she had that managed to disarm everyone around her (with the exception of Quinn, and possibly Hummel). "We really did just want to come to see if you needed someone to talk to."

Forty-five minutes and a series of wild stories, the majority of which included alcohol, a few included sobs over failed dreams of Broadway stardom (and a drunken rendition of  _Defying Gravity,_ complete with shouts that she was better than that  _Katelyn Chinowet_ lady), and  _all_ seemed to spiral further and further into utter insanity, it was all but decided that though April was definitely on the strange side, she was  _probably_ not who they were searching for. It wasn't until she was passed out cold on the couch, the combination of liquor and  _whatever_ drugs she was on finally getting the best of her, that Brittany and Santana confirmed it officially, with a tap of Brittany's hand on the back of April's and a simple connection that she wouldn't remember in the morning (and even if she  _did_ , odds were, no one would believe the dreams of a drunkard). Closing the door behind them, Santana noticed the slump in Brittany's shoulders, noticed the dejected way that she walked, and she gave her a little space, figuring that she needed just a little bit of time to herself to process what had (or rather, hadn't) happened.

"I'm sorry it wasn't her." Santana nearly whispered, after they'd been driving almost a half hour, and Brittany had yet to speak, staring out the window and ignoring the repeated beeps of the cellphone in her lap. When she turned around to look at Santana, there were tears in her eyes, and the human girl's heart almost broke for the alien who held it so tightly. "Oh, Britt."

"I'm fine, I'm okay." She quickly wiped her eyes, and then hiccuped a little. "I didn't realize how much I'd gotten my hopes up, I guess, and what if they're all…what if everyone on this list are just weird, reclusive middle aged people that are a little strange?"

"If that was the case, I think that crazy nurse lady would be on there too." Santana tried to joke, but as much as Brittany wanted to, she couldn't find it in her to smile. "We'll find them, even if they're not one of two leads we have left, we  _will_ find them."

"How do you know? We've been here all this time and no one comes looking for us? No one gives us answers? I always just assumed we were the only ones who survived the crash, but now that I know we weren't...it just sucks, being abandoned like that, without even knowing who I am."

"I can't tell you I understand what you're feeling, Brittany, but I'm really, really sorry." She took a pale hand in her own and brought it to her lips, kidding the inside of her fingers. "But I don't want your hopes to get crushed over one drunken nut job, and you want to know how I know we'll find them? I know because a few weeks ago, I didn't believe aliens existed, a few weeks ago, I thought bleeding out on a floor left you dead, a few weeks ago, I didn't know that I could kiss someone and have a whole new world open up in front of me.  _You,_ Brittany Pierce, make me believe the unbelievable. Even finding what could be a needle in a haystack is  _way_ less far fetched to me than you even existing at all."

"Maybe somewhere in the back of my mind is what they look like, maybe you can find it in there." Brittany conceded, too touched by Santana's words to come up with an appropriate response, and when Santana slowly lowered her hand, she quickly tangled their fingers together, trying to express her gratitude and affection through tough.

"Looks like we have some  _serious_ making out to do then. You know, for the purpose of the investigation."

"You know that it's  _never_ just for that, right?" She checked, and though she'd said it numerous times, Santana had never needed the actual words to believe it, she could  _feel_ Brittany's want for her, feel the way she burned inside, even if the alien's skin didn't flame like her own did.

"I do." Santana nodded, then took in a deep breath, swallowing hard, and considering her next words carefully. "Britt, can I talk to you about something  _not_ alien?"

"That would actually be  _really_ good right now."

"Okay good. It's about...it's about  _us._ I know we talked about just being, and stuff, and honestly I always kind of made fun of people who were all about labels, and like girls who were all ooey-gooey and  _gross_ about their boyfriends. But, okay-" Santana took a break to breathe, because she could feel her heart in her throat as Brittany's eyes never left her, and she  _also_ was trying to keep her eyes on the road, so as not to get them killed. "The thing is, Britt, I know we have to keep this a secret right now to keep you safe, and I want that, I  _still_ want that, of course. But for me, and you, and our friends and stuff, I just- Like, when I was introducing you to my aunt today, I, ugh, I'm really no good at this."

"Santana." Brittany let out a soft giggle, trying to help the rambling girl out. "When you introduced me to your aunt, I kind of froze for a second, thinking you might introduce me as your girlfriend, but then I realized you couldn't, because we  _aren't._ But I want us to be."

"You do?"

"No, I just save random damsels in distress, and share all my secrets with them before sneaking to their room every night to talk about nothing, and then make out a little." Brittany teased, and Santana's cheeks burned. "Of course I want to be your girlfriend, I've probably wanted that since the first time I saw you, and now that I  _know_ you, like, really know you, I want it so, so much more. I want to say it all singsong-y in my head, and be really, really cheesy about you when I talk to Sam. I want to know that when I put my arms around you when we're alone, I'm the only one who can do it. Maybe it's crazy, when there's all this big deal, potentially universe altering stuff going on, but it would  _really_ mean a lot to me to be able to call you that."

"Oh, good." Santana let out all of the air she'd been holding in out in one long stream, and she kind of felt like crying. "Good, I'm really happy about that."

"Well I'd  _hope_ so."

"I know nothing's really changed, because I've sort of already been secretly pretending that we were official, or whatever, in my head, and we still have to hide from  _basically_ everyone, but I really want to pull over and kiss you right now."

"I wouldn't stop you if you did."

Checking her mirrors, Santana pulled onto a desert shoulder, feeling a buzz that  _didn't_ come from physical contact with Brittany, a buzz that came from the same place as other average teenagers all over the world, the aftermath of intense anticipation and a buildup of nerves, the strong affection and desire for another person who meant so much. She took both of Brittany's cheeks in her hand, just wanting to feel as much of her as she possibly could, before pressing their lips together, starting slow, gentle, reverent, and letting it build up, letting it intensify to the point that Santana felt like she was going to explode. There were no flashes, no far off universes, just  _Brittany,_ just the soft stroke of tongue, the soft brush of noses, and the eventual tangling of long fingers in black hair. As much as Santana  _loved_ the supernatural element to her kisses with Brittany, she also knew that the way it reached such a fever pitch usually caused her body to stop cooperating with her, and she was glad for this, glad for the perfectly  _human_ kiss that she could give to the girl who held her heart. In the moment, the world seemed to stand still, the worry about what came next in their hunt, the fear of losing the one each of them loved the most, the need to report back to the others about April Rhodes, all of that disappeared at sunset on a lone desert highway between Ruidoso and Roswell. If only for a few moments, they were just Santana and Brittany, celebrating something that didn't change a  _thing_ about what the actually meant to each other, but something, that for the first time in Brittany's life, made her feel just like everyone else.

* * *

 


	10. Into the Woods

Even with Sara's seal of approval, it too a  _lot_ of convincing on Santana's part (and Mercedes' as well) to get Maribel Lopez to agree to allow her only child to go camping in the woods for an entire weekend, so soon after she'd managed to injure herself doing something significantly  _less_  dangerous. In an effort to add to the proof that she was okay, Santana had managed to coerce Terri Delmonico to write a note on her behalf (conveniently leaving out the part about  _not_ being an actual nurse) an effort that took more onion dip and bridal magazines than  _anyone_ should suffer through in eighty minutes, but she needed all of the ammunition she could get. Eve by late Thursday night, as Santana packed up her duffel bag and Brittany sat on the bed, watching, her repeated offers to help brushed off, it  _still_ seemed pretty up in the air whether she'd actually be able to get on the bus on the next day without a scene, but Santana didn't care, she was going with them, one way or another.

"She said  _yes,_ though." Brittany gave a gentle reminder, midway through Santana's  _third_ rant about her mother in the less than forty-five minutes since the alien girl had climbed through the window.

"I know she  _said_ yes, but that's the thing with my mother, she'll change her mind in a second. It wouldn't surprise me if she chased the bus down in the parking lot tomorrow morning, screaming  _mi beb_ _é_ _! Mi beb_ _é_ _! Se duele!"_ Santana brought the back of her hand to her forehead, mimicking her mother as she dropped another sweatshirt into her bag, and Brittany laughed. "I'm not even kidding. Sometimes she thinks she's in a  _telenovela_."

"What about your dad?" Brittany picked at her cuticles, already having learned that it was usually a sensitive subject, mentioning Santana's father.

"I could probably be missing a limb, but if it looked good for college, he'd be all about me going."

"I'm sorry, that must be hard."

"It's whatever." Santana shrugged, putting an end to that topic of conversation before it even began. "How are you doing?"

"Not getting my hopes up this time. If this guy is the fourth alien, great, if not, we still have one more to go." Brittany sighed, and sensing that her girlfriend had her hopes higher than she would admit to, Santana stopped what she was doing to give her a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I'm excited about camping though, my parents take us a lot, but this is even better, because you'll be there."

"I'm excited too, like  _really_ excited, especially if you can manage to get Quinn to switch with me and share a tent with Mercedes."

"Well I  _may_ have only packed one blow up mattress, and since Quinn doesn't really  _do_ sharing a bed  _or_ sleeping on the ground, I think she may not have a choice."

"Pretty  _and_ sneaky." Santana laughed. "How lucky am I?"

"Pretty lucky."

Catching Santana's lips fully with her own, Brittany smiled as the packing lay forgotten on the edge of the bed, and Santana kneeled over her, straddling her lap and deepening the kiss. Like she'd taken to doing whenever they made out, Brittany slipped her hand up Santana's shirt, covering the bruise with it, hoping that even without using her healing abilities, she could keep the pain from flaring up, keep Santana from getting too carried away and then yelping in pain, like she tended to do. Murmuring some type of appreciation, the human threaded her fingers through blonde locks and nibbled at Brittany's lower lip, sighing into her mouth as she felt visions on that far off planet creep into her periphery. In the days since their visit to Ruidoso, Santana had actually gotten better at preventing the flashes from fully consuming her, from all but entirely physically removing her from Brittany, and she was glad that she was able to enjoy the other girl on  _both_ the human  _and_ the alien level. She still got warm afterwards, she still got a glowing tingle below her skin, but it was not longer a cause for panic, since she wasn't  _burning up_ the way she had at first, and Santana was glad that she could kiss her girlfriend without feeling like she was made of glass.

"I was thinking." Brittany murmured later, when they were both lying on their sides, foreheads pressed together. "I know that maybe I'm being paranoid, and it's probably totally fine, and nothing's going to happen, and maybe this is  _crazy_ and stupid that I even think this way to begin with-"

"It's okay, you can tell me." Santana cut off her rambling with a soft smile and a squeeze of the hand.

"Part of the reason that I feel so safe with the stuff here, especially the  _necklace,_ is because you're here. And I know you aren't in your room all of the time, because of school and work, and whatever, and I also know it's behind the bricks, and it's safe, but...I don't know."

"You don't want to leave it for the weekend."

"I don't." She shook her head. "I know-"

"Hey, stop. It's not crazy, or stupid, or any of that. Britt, it's the only thing you have from the place you came from, and it's obviously  _really_ important, whatever it is. You're right, we should bring it with us. And at least Kurt  _wouldn't be caught dead_ camping, his words, not mine, so we don't have to worry about him somehow seeing it or something. We could probably pin it closed, and since the chain is long, you wear it and it would hide under your clothes."

"Do you...never mind." Brittany shook her head quickly, and Santana squinted her eyes before kissing her encouragingly.

"What?"

"Do  _you_ want to?"

"You want  _me_  to wearit?" Santana asked, her heart squeezing that Brittany would truly offer something like that to her. She'd said it, kind of in passing, that first night, that she'd want her to, if she could, but there was something different, something  _so_ different about her  _actually_ asking.

"Only if you wanted to, I mean-"

"Of course I want to wear it, it's just, you trusting me with that,  _wow."_

"I trust you with my life, Santana, and I've felt so safe with you having it in your wall, of  _course_ I trust you to wear it." Brittany gave Santana an adoring smile. "It obviously says something about how I feel for you, since you can touch it and no one else can."

"Yeah, I guess it does." Santana smiled back, words at the tip of her tongue again, words she pushed back down, because despite Sara's words, she wasn't completely sure she was ready to say them yet. "I-I have safety pins in my desk drawer, I'll get them."

"Stay." Brittany shook her head, pushing herself up from the bed. "You really need to keep resting your ribs, I don't want any reason why you can't come with me tomorrow. I'll get them, and I'll get the necklace out."

Santana watched as Brittany moved about her room, following directions as to where she kept the pins, setting them down on the bed as she moved over to the space in the wall where everything was stored. She pushed the papers deeper inside, and with the yellow pendant cradled in both hands, she sat back down on the bed. When Santana sat up, full of anticipation and nerves, Brittany swept her long dark hair to the side, making the girl shiver when a soft kiss was pressed to the back of her neck. There was no hesitation in the motions Brittany made, no second guessing herself as she draped the chain around the neck of the girl she loved, letting the yellow stone slip down her shirt and into the valley of her breasts. She had to bite her lip, and remind herself to breathe, taken by the idea of something so important to her resting close to the heart of some _one_ infinitely  _more_ valuable.

Pinning the broken metal together, Brittany watched as the stone began to glow again, softer than the first time Santana touched it, but glowing, nonetheless. Not sure what to do, feeling a contentment that she couldn't begin to place, Santana searched blindly for Brittany's hand, tangling fingers together and pulling them to the place the jewel rested, leaning back into  _her_ alien and tilting her chin up to receive a kiss.

"Thank you." Brittany breathed, her eyes brimming with unplaceable tears. "For wearing it...for keeping it safe."

* * *

In the early morning hours, after getting a little bit of sleep, Brittany slipped back out through Santana's bedroom window, leaving the still unconscious girl with the softest of kisses on her lips, and the ghosting of fingers over the necklace. Just before the sun came up, she made it home, and found Sam in the garage, pulling the tents down from the rafters, and tinkering around with some of the lamps, deciding which they should bring with them (not that it actually  _mattered_ which ones worked, but Sam liked the kind of things that he and their father usually did before a family trip together). By 8:15, confident with what they had packed, the Pierce siblings loaded up their car and headed over to Quinn's, eager to be on their way to the school.

When Quinn came out, wearing a pair of Brittany's old hiking boots (though she'd scoffed at the hand-me-downs, she'd eventually conceded, figuring her own shoes wouldn't suit her for running through underbrush, and going to the Reservation required all kinds of practicality), and a camping pack slung over her back. She didn't say anything when she got in the car, but even without her words, both Brittany and Sam were well aware of her thinly veiled excitement for their search, and  _maybe,_ though she'd never admit it, for the opportunity to be included in a camping trip with Brittany and Sam. The drive to the school was quick, and when they arrived, Sam grabbed the bigger tent from the trunk, leaving Quinn and Brittany to wrangle the remainder of their stuff.

"Hey, Quinn?" Brittany's voice lilted upward in question, and Quinn took her eyes off of the map that she was studying quickly, before shoving it in her pocket. "I need to ask you a favor."

"What?"

"Well, I mean, I know you don't love the idea of Santana being my girlfriend, but she  _is,_ obviously, and I spend most nights at her house, but it's like, we're always sneaking, and now we'll be in the woods, and since this is a wilderness survival trip, we're kind of on our own." Brittany rambled, rubbing her palms on her jeans, thinking how ridiculous it was that she was  _that_ nervous about asking Quinn to switch tents with Santana, especially because it was  _kind of_ her tent anyway. "So I was just hoping, you know, that-"

"Are you telling me that you're going to pin a sock to the tent so you and Lopez can take a new step in human-alien relations?"

"What? No, no, it's not like that." Brittany blushed furiously, and pressed her palms to her cheeks.

"Look, whatever, I don't care about what you do with her, all I care about is the end result, and if you find out more about our home planet. You probably  _should_ be sleeping with her, if she's seeing planets just from you  _kissing_ her, imagine what we could learn if you took it to the next level."

"We've been over this, Quinn. I'm not using her like that. When we  _do_ sleep together, it's going to be because we both want to for  _us,_ not for a quest, I'm not building a relationship on making her my human telescope."

"Whatever, I don't care, I'll bunk with the other one, but think about it.  _Really_ think about it, you've got a whole world right at your fingertips." Brittany screwed up her face at Quinn's choice of words, _really_ not okay with her talking about Santana like a sex object, or a tool. "You're always talking about human desires, and all of that, she  _obviously_ wants to sleep with you, every time we pass her in the hallway, she's making sex eyes at you."

"She's not making  _sex eyes_ at me. She's just…happy to see me."

"Sure that's what it is. It's pretty  _obvious_ that you  _both_ want it. If I were in your shoes, you know what I'd be doing."

"You  _are_ in my shoes."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. But if I were going by what  _you_ would do, Santana would probably be dead right now, so..."

Feeling pretty miffed by her conversation with Quinn, Brittany grabbed her own duffle bag, and the smaller tent that Sam would used, and stalked over to where the bus waited. She was distracted as she loaded her things under the bus, half looking for Sam, half looking for Santana, and trying to push away what Quinn had said to her. She couldn't, she  _wouldn't,_ sleep with Santana just for information, she'd made that vow to herself from the very first time that they kissed. Maybe it was cheesy, but she wanted it to be special, whenever they finally did it, and while their physical relationship seemed to be progressing each night, their make out sessions getting just a little more handsy, their kisses on skin lingering just a little longer, she wasn't planning on divulging  _any_ of that to Quinn, no matter what the end result was.

Boarding the bus, Brittany found Sam already seated in the second row, and she slid in beside him, barely listening as he talked about the movie he'd gone to see with their father the night before as she searched around for Santana, hoping Mrs. Lopez didn't throw a wrench in their plans. Finally,  _finally,_ after Brittany ignored Quinn when she'd taken a seat behind her, and had almost taken out her phone to send a text to her girlfriend ( _just_ checking, if she wasn't able to go, it would be okay, as much as she wanted her there), Mercedes climbed the steps, followed close behind by her best friend. Brittany couldn't help but smile, seeing Santana look so  _outdoorsy,_ though she clearly wasn't that type, tight laced hiking boots coming to mid calf, tight jeans (okay maybe  _they_ weren't outdoorsy, but they were  _so_ sexy), and a red plaid shirt, tied up and exposing  _just_ a sliver of that perfect skin below her navel.

When Santana caught Brittany unabashedly checking her out, she quirked a teasing eyebrow, and pulled her glossy bottom lip between her teeth, knowing just how crazy it drove Brittany when she did that. In return, Brittany ran her tongue over  _her_ bottom lip, and when Santana walked past her, she grazed tan fingers with her own, knowing the sparks it would send through the human girl's body.

"I'll just sit back and wait for the inevitable to happen." Brittany heard Quinn say, and blue eyes widened,  _hoping_ that Santana hadn't heard that. Seemingly unaffected, Santana let her pinky graze the inside of Brittany's wrist, and Brittany noticed where her girlfriend's other hand was, resting protectively over where the pendant fell below her shirt.

"She's getting creepier about this by the day." Sam murmured, after Santana had passed, referring to Quinn, and Brittany just nodded, shifting in her seat, a more than a little uncomfortable about how turned on she was from such slight contact.

* * *

The first several hours of her camping trip were those group activities that Quinn had been so dreading, learning about poisonous plants, about how to check bedding for scorpions and tarantulas, and an overly detailed course in first aid (during which, Santana, seated on a rock directly across from Brittany, discretely waggled her fingers, intending to demonstrate why she didn't need to worry about it, but instead, causing Brittany's mind to plummet deep into the gutter). Sam was really into all of the lessons, and Brittany had basically tuned out Quinn's complaining in favor of trading secret hand signals with Santana. For her, the time flew, and when they were finally able to split off on their own to find a place to camp, she was just about jumping with excitement.

"Do you need some help with that, Lopez?" Quinn sidled up to Santana, once they were mostly out of the line of vision of anyone who might think it strange that the five of them were headed off in the same direction.

"Um. Why are you being nice to me?" Santana eyed Quinn warily, and Brittany's eyes shot daggers at the other girl, expecting an ulterior motive to be revealed.

"Just thought I'd help, since Brittany's got her hands full, and you've still got busted ribs, right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine though."

"Don't be an idiot, just give me your bag before you hurt yourself more."

Brittany waited for it to come, some mention of getting more information, or some biting comment directed at Santana, but strangely, it didn't, and Brittany furrowed her brow in confusion. Sam and Mercedes made eye contact, equally confused about the random kindness of Quinn, but Santana, with an aching side, gave up protesting and allowed Quinn to take the bag from her. Purposefully, they walked far out into the woods, and set their tents up far from each other,  _just in case_ someone came to check on them (though their chaperones claimed that as long as they checked in at the required times, they'd be mostly left to their own devices), it would appear that they weren't clustered together and conspiring.

While she put together their tent, Brittany refused to let Santana help, instead, directing her to sit on the wide tree stump across from her and drink some water after their short walk. Santana was reluctant to comply, hating feeling useless, but at the same time, she knew she needed to save her strength, knew that the next night, they had a long trek to make, and she'd be damned if she was stuck at camp because she'd been stubborn and insisted on helping to build a tent. Of course, Santana was also grateful for the added perk, watching Brittany push up her sleeves and work, the toned muscles of the lithe blonde's body tightening as she bent and lifted, snapping rods together with ease. Much as Brittany had on the bus earlier, Santana felt an ache between her thighs, and fidgeted, imagining those muscular arms throwing her down on the ground and a gorgeous blonde extraterrestrial having her way with her.

"Enjoying the view?" Brittany teased, taking a swig out of her water bottle and winking at Santana.

"Yeah, totally, I mean, the sun's starting to set, and it's pretty gorgeous." She laughed, never taking her eyes off of Brittany.

"Just the sunset?"

"Totally, there isn't a crazy attractive blonde who kind of looks like she's glowing in it right now or anything."

"Santana." Brittany blushed, dropping what she was doing and striding over to plant a kiss on Santana's lips. "If I keep having to stop and kiss you, I'll never get this together before dark and we'll have to sleep outside."

"I'd love to sleep under the stars with you."

"You are being such a cheese ball,  _stop."_ Brittany whined, grinning widely and kissing Santana again. "Be all sweet and cheesy when I'm done."

"But you look so cute building a tent, I just can't help myself."

"Is this the same girl who used to walk down the hall and make gagging noises if someone so much as called their significant other  _babe?"_ Mercedes appeared in the clearing, sucking her teeth at Santana's unabashed display of affection.

"Whatever, 'Ce, they're usually totally lame.  _My_ girl is building a tent for me,  _that_ deserves all the praise in the world."

"Okay, Allie Hamilton, then I better get on praising Quinn, since she wouldn't even let me touch  _my own_ tent, because she said she wasn't staying in some busted half-ass human building job."

"Maybe she has a crush on you." Santana shrugged, laughing. "She's being really weird nice today. I guess she's just really excited about Howard Bamboo."

"Yeah." Brittany figured she wouldn't mention her discussion earlier in the day,  _especially_ not in front of Mercedes. "I just don't really wanted to see the storm that comes if he's not who we're looking for. I'm pretty sure this place will look like it was hit by a meteor shower."

"Good luck with that." Santana nodded toward Mercedes.

"Oh no, if she goes into  _that_ mode, you two are putting your love fest on hold, and I'm bunking in your tent." Mercedes scoffed, and Santana immediately tensed up at the word  _love,_ trying to read a reaction to it on Brittany's straight face.

"Anyway." The flustered human glared at her friend. "What's up? Are Sam and Quinn coming to get this meeting out of the way before dinner?"

"That's what they said. Looks like Brittany could use some help finishing up anyway."

"Nope." Brittany touched the remaining poles, curving them into the proper shape without having to find the correct ones, and fastening the canvas. "All done."

"Well why didn't you do that the whole time?" Santana huffed a little, crossing her arms over her chest. "Here you had me on a sweet lady kiss time limit, when it was that simple."

"Trust me, if you saw your face watching me,you would have drawn it out too." Brittany smirked, and Santana flicked her shoulder when she leaned in for a kiss.

"Nope, none for you now."

"Hmph, mean."

"Anyone mind if  _I_ start gagging now?"

"I'll join you." Quinn, followed by Sam, stepped out, and she kicked some dirt off a rock before sitting on it. "I've gotta sleep on the shittiest air mattress I've ever seen in my life, the least you can do is quit shoving your tongues down each other's throats for an hour."

"Um, in all fairness, Quinn, I think the issue was that Santana  _wasn't_ kissing Britt." Sam pointed out, earning a scoff. "Also, you know you can fix the mattress, right? Mine feels like a real bed now."

"Whatever, not even the point. Why are we having this meeting right now, anyway?"

"Sit." Brittany directed, finding her own spot on a low rock, and inviting Santana to sit on her lap, one she readily accepted, despite the teasing about not kissing her only a few moments earlier. Sam and Mercedes found their own place on a hollowed out log, and Brittany couldn't resist sending sly wink in her brother's direction. "I want all of us to be on the same page about tomorrow night. This is a  _totally_ different game than Santana and I showing up to crazy drunk April Rhodes' house at 4:30 in the afternoon. All five of us suddenly stumbling onto this Reservation together looks way too suspicious, especially because Bamboo is the  _night guard._ We need to split up."

"Oh, let me guess how this is going to go. You and Santana, Sam and Mercedes, and then me, shoved in with one of you."

"No." Brittany shook her head, causing Santana to tilt her head to look at her, eyes wide. "I'm going to go in first, pretend that I'm lost, get Bamboo's attention  _but-"_ Brittany held up her hand, cutting off Quinn, before she could make another complaint. "I want you guys to be  _maybe_ five minutes behind me. I'm  _not_ doing this alone, okay? I'm just going to act really confused and disoriented, and then by the time he starts asking questions, you'll be there."

"Britt." Santana began to protest, but Brittany squeezed her hand, a silent promise that it was going to be fine.

"Sam, you're with Mercedes, Quinn, you're with Santana. Look at the map, there are two entrances, both of you come in a different one, because you had split up to look for me."

" _I'm_ with Santana?" Quinn raised an eyebrow skeptically, sure that Brittany had been mistaken, sure that she'd have wanted her precious Santana with Sam, not her.

"Yes." Brittany didn't elaborate her reasoning, just simply nodded. "Everyone got it?"

"How will we know though, if he's the one?" Sam asked.

"Quinn, this one is all you. If we don't know right away, you're going to stumble and catch his arm."

"Well we  _are_  the ragtag group of idiots." Quinn rolled her eyes, masking her pleasure at being the one who got to make the connection with him. "You get lost in the woods, I can't walk properly, Santana falls off pyramids, I can't  _wait_ to see what's in store for you two on the next mission."

"The more put together we are, the less believable it is. Just go with it, just act like you're a normal seventeen year old who just spent hours searching for your lost friend in the woods."

"And if he's the alien?" Mercedes asked, catching the way Santana ceased her rubbing of Brittany's arm, almost pausing in panic, at the question.

"If he's the alien, then we reveal ourselves, and we let him do the rest of the talking."

* * *

Santana was quiet through most of the group dinner back at the campfire, buried deep within her own thoughts. Mostly involuntarily, she kept her palm pressed to her chest, and she tried to take an interest in the mundane gossip happening around her. By the time she'd eaten half of a hamburger, she was full, and she pushed the food aside, choosing instead to make the long trek over to the camp showers, wanting to immerse herself in the lukewarm water and try to clear out her mind. When she'd finished, drying her skin and tenderly wiping droplets of water from the necklace, it was entirely dark, the last residual daylight long faded, and stepping out of the building, pulling her jacket tight around her body, the temperature having dropped significantly, she was surprised to find Brittany off in the shadows, hair damp, and waiting for her.

"Hey." Brittany whispered. "I didn't want you to have to walk back to our tent alone, so..."

"Thank you." Santana sought out Brittany's hand with her own, tangling their fingers together and sidling closer to her girlfriend.

"Are you okay? You didn't look like yourself at dinner, are your ribs bothering you?"

"No, they're not so bad, don't worry." She pressed a kiss to the underside of Brittany's jaw. "I just wasn't really in the mood for everyone. I'm glad now that it's just us."

"Me too."

They walked in silence back to their tent, hands clasped, and their steps falling into sync. When they made it into the tent, and Santana sat down on the bed to unlace her boots, she bounced up and down a few times, genuinely surprised at how right Sam was, how whatever it was that Brittany had done to the air mattress truly made it feel like a real bed. Knowing exactly what Santana was thinking, Brittany just shrugged, as if to say  _what are alien girlfriends for anyway?_ before flopping back onto the pillows. When Santana crawled up beside her, Brittany rolled over, lying on her side, looking into dark eyes and brushing noses, before pecking soft lips several times, inviting Santana to be the one to take things further.

It didn't take long before Santana's tongue slid into the space between Brittany's lips, and gentle fingers wound their way into loose blonde hair. They kissed like that for a while, sweet, tender, even as Brittany felt her body temperature rising, and she was sure by the hazy look in Santana's eyes that she'd been in and out of visions. Santana's left hand found her way up under Brittany's sweatshirt, fingertips dancing across tight strung abdominal muscles, ghosting over ribs, inching higher and higher until they skimmed the underside of Brittany's breast, causing a contented sigh to hum between them.

"Can I touch you?" Santana brought her lips to Brittany's ear, sending a shiver down her spine and making her throat go dry. Slowly, she nodded her head, shuddering and sucking on Santana's pulse point as the human girl slowly pushed up the separating garment, hearing the hitch of her breath as the new expanse of creamy skin was revealed. "You are beautiful."

"Santana." Brittany exhaled sharply, hissing as thumbs brushed over peaked nipples. "Santana."

"Can I...?" Her unfinished question was met with a nod, and Santana brought herself up on her knees, with Brittany quickly following suit, raising her arms as Santana pulled the shirt up entirely over her head.

Santana could hear nothing but her blood rushing in her ears, more nervous than she'd ever been in seeing a girl topless before her. Seeing the way Brittany's cheeks colored, shy at her exposure, she pressed a kiss to her mouth, then to the hollow of her throat, letting her lips rest there, almost tasting her heartbeat. When she slowly pulled away, she lifted her eyes to burning blue, and as nervous fingers twitched at the hem of her thick sweater, Santana brought her hands to meet Brittany's, guiding them along as they removed the garment. Once it was removed, Santana brought Brittany's hands to her breasts, releasing a shuddering moan as Brittany, emboldened, gently squeezed.

At the first touch to her girlfriend's perfect breasts, Brittany felt like she couldn't breathe, the feeling of being so close to the girl she had been in love with for as long as she could remember proving more to take than she could have imagined. Santana's eyes were soft, reassuring, and with their faces bathed in the warm golden light the necklace was emitting again, Brittany felt her heart in her throat. She cupped Santana's cheek, kissing her with a new kind of urgency, thick with a stronger desire than she'd ever felt. Santana's hand trailed across Brittany's lower stomach, tracing the waistband of her pajama pants, wanting to see more, to go further. and Brittany's muscles jumped, wanting so,  _so_ badly for that hand to dip below, but also hesitant, so conflicted about taking that leap.

"Santana." Brittany grabbed both of Santana's hands, breathing hard, blinking fast, trying to stop the throbbing ache between her thighs, a pretty fruitless effort, considering she still held Santana's breast with one hand, and they were so close that their nipples were brushing, driving her kind of insane. "I-I just need a minute."

"Brittany." Her voice was raspier than normal, the sound Brittany had grown accustomed to in the nights they'd spent together, and she kissed below her earlobe, kissed her neck, kissed her way back up to her lips. "I'm not rushing you, I'm sorry, I'm not rushing you at all. I know you've never...and we don't have to..."

"No, no. It's not about that, it's not about that at all." She expressed all the sincerity she could with her eyes, and her thumb stroked the apple of Santana's cheek, soothing her concern. She'd said it to Santana before, told her so many times that she would never use her, and though she didn't say it again specifically, not wanting to spoil the moment, Brittany wanted her to understand how  _loved_ she was, even without speaking those three words out loud. "I want to, I want  _you,_ more than I've  _ever_ wanted anything. You're beautiful, you're so beautiful, and just...you're  _you._ I need you to know that, before we do anything, I need you to know that you mean so much to me, that I care about you so much."

"I know. I know you do. I feel it every time you look at me, every time you touch me, every time your lips press so softly to mine, like you cherish every kiss." Santana smiled, her heart thumping harder still, her eyes crinkling softly. "And you are the most gorgeous  _being_ I've ever seen, I'd never thought I'd want to be with someone the way I want you. I want  _everything_ with you to be special, because _you_ are special, and you make me feel that way too. If you're not ready to do this, if you want to wait, we can stop right now, we can just kiss some more, or we can put our shirts back on and go to sleep."

"Santana, I want to do this more than I've ever wanted to do anything in my life." Brittany closed the gap between the two of them again, cradling the back of Santana's head and drawing her in for a heated kiss.

"Okay." Dark eyelashes batted, and small hands ran up and down Brittany's sides, rubbing away the goosebumps caused by the chill of the night. "Stop me though, if you change your mind. Can I...?"

"Please." Brittany whispered, hands finding breasts again, sort of surpassing her own imagination about how good they felt in her hands. As Santana worked the tie on her pants, the alien girl couldn't focus her eyes, shifting them between eager digits, gorgeous mounds of flesh, and wanting eyes. Santana, for her part, eased Brittany back into a lying position, once the knot was tugged free, and still kneeling between her girlfriend's legs, she slowly (painfully, Brittany thought, as she ached to bridge the distance that had grown between them, ached to run her tongue over the wide expanse of smooth skin above her) slid the flannel down her legs, letting her fingers tease over the outside of her thighs, the back of her kneels, the dips of her ankles, the very bottoms of her feet.

Squirming under Santana's touch, Brittany arched up, wrapping her arms around the other girl's waist, pulling her down on top of her so their bare chests were touching again. Left in only her panties, Brittany felt like Santana was entirely too clothed, and without hesitation, used her shaking hands to liberate the human girl of her pants, trying to mimic the sensual touches that she'd just about melted under. Hearing the small whimpers that escaped Santana's throat, especially when her fingers grazed teasingly over a lace covered center, Brittany believed that she'd accomplished what she'd been going for, and lied back, bringing Santana down with her. Skin pressed to skin, the beat of their hearts almost resonating through the otherworldly stone trapped between their chests, Brittany tilted her chin, taking Santana's lips again.

"Are you okay?" Santana asked, after kissing, touching Brittany for a long time, so cautious with her beautiful alien girl, even as her own skin burned, even as the wetness between her legs grew, even as she wanted nothing more than to continue her exploration of Brittany's picturesque body.

"I'm supposed to be asking you that." Brittany panted, eyelids heavy, lips swollen, as she brushed two fingers over Santana's injured side.

"Doesn't hurt when I'm with you." She reminded her, kissing the curve of her jaw, her chin, the strung tendons in her neck, and meeting blue eyes, she silently asking permission for her mouth to continue it's southward journey.

With no light but that which came from around Santana's neck, Brittany's fair skin, cast in that ethereal glow, was more tantalizing to Santana than she believed possible. Maintaining eye contact, Santana worked her way over each inch of it, stopping to pay special attention to the constellation spattering of freckles just under the right side of Brittany's clavicle, tracing the marks with her tongue, and then peppering them with soft kisses. Despite the increasingly desperate little noises that passed through Brittany's lips, noises that Santana was sure she didn't even know she was making, Santana didn't increase the speed of her actions, she wanted to ensure that Brittany's first time was an out of this world experience (a worthy cause, considering), she wanted Brittany to throb, to burn, to keen, to feel the same amazing tingling that  _she_ felt every time the unearthly being was in her presence. With the soft weight of Brittany's hands resting on her upper back, holding onto her, not wanting to let her go for an instant, Santana brought a pink nipple to her lips. She smiled into skin as a hiss rang in her ear, making her shiver with want, the noises Brittany was capable of dialing up her desire exponentially.

Brittany's entire body trembled, Santana's lips on her skin made it impossible for her to even complete a coherent thought. Occasionally, Santana would lift her mouth from where it worked, and give the softest, most comforting smile, one that made the words Brittany had been keeping down rise higher and higher in her throat, until she had to bite her lip to keep from crying them out, not wanting to speak them for the first time in the throes of passion. When Santana reached the very top of Brittany's panties, after kissing strong stomach muscles, she paused, and Brittany was sure she could no longer breathe, sure that the sight of Santana between her legs, asking without words if she could bare her completely would be the actual death of her (forget fourth aliens and prying law enforcement agents, one seemingly innocuous human girl was  _so_ much more powerful when it came to one Brittany Susan Pierce). Not trusting herself to speak,  _sure_ that declarations of eternal love would slip uninvited through her lips, Brittany simply brought her palm to Santana's cheek, cradling it affectionately and lifting her lower half up.

"Wow." Santana breathed, pushing Brittany's knees further apart, then felt her cheeks burn hot, and she blinked her eyes closed, embarrassed by her unabashed appreciation of her exposed girlfriend. "Sorry, I just...you're beautiful everywhere."

Brittany giggled, a nervous giggle, an affectionate giggle, because there was just something about Santana, something about the way she sometimes embarrassed herself for no apparent reason that almost made Brittany want to pull her back up and kiss her senseless. Before that thought could fully take root though, Brittany watched Santana's head dip, felt the soft nip on teeth on her inner thigh, and she wove her fingers into dark strands, sucking in as much air as she possibly could.

"Santana." She uttered, and swimming brown eyes gazed up, boring into Brittany's soul as eager lips hovered just above wet heat. "Santana."

"Brittany." The left side of Santana's mouth quirked, and she exhaled, making Brittany's whole body shudder as the stream of warm air hit her.

Assured that Brittany was ready for her to continue, Santana placed light, teasing kisses on Brittany's hipbones, over the outside of her sex. Eager fingers pressed against Brittany's entrance, and Santana's pulse pounded, desperate to make Brittany feel good, desperate to touch, to taste, to experience  _everything._ Even as she brought her mouth down, licking straight through her, dipping  _just_ the very tip of her tongue inside, Santana couldn't tear her eyes from Brittany's face, needing to see the contortion of her features, the way her eyes flickered myriad colors, each and every one expressing an undying devotion that nearly made her cry. While her lips wrapped around sensitive nerves, alternating pressure, Santana slowly slipped a finger inside of Brittany, moaning herself, at the tight heat that engulfed it (the moan against her most sensitive place making Brittany's hips cant). Giving Brittany time to adjust to the new sensation, she curled just the slightest bit, searching within her, before withdrawing and sliding a second digit in.

Brittany could hardly stand it, the unbearable twisting of that coil in her stomach, exacerbated by that look of pure, animalistic need in Santana's eyes as she did indescribable things with her mouth, with her fingers, looking at her like she was the most incredible thing she'd ever seen, the most incredible thing she'd ever tasted. It was beyond Brittany's wildest fantasies, far surpassing anything she'd ever been capable of with her own hands, and as nearly black hair fanned out over her things, hair that she couldn't help but grip tighter at each well-timed thrust of skilled fingers, Brittany felt herself slipping, felt herself free-falling into another reality. At first, she was sure it was her climax approaching (she couldn't even bring herself to feel embarrassed at it happening so fast, it was _Santana_ between her legs _,_ after all, it was all she'd ever hoped for come true), but when she felt her eyes force themselves closed, felt a familiar buzz behind them, she was overcome by something infinitely stronger.

It was all there, everything Santana had described, the onyx sands, the goldenrod skies, the stars, in colors Brittany had never imagined existed. Something was happening off in the distance, beyond the gelatinous stream that somehow gurgled passed, something happening that created melodious sounds that tickled her ears, the beauty of them comparable to nothing on earth. She couldn't get closer, she was frozen in this, this illusion of her mind, but she wanted to know what was happening, wanted to know who was creating that noise, wanted to know  _why_ they were creating it, but instead, she just let it wrap around her, let herself be rocked by the intensity of the emotion that came over her.

Santana could feel what was happening to Brittany, she  _knew_ by the blissed out look on her face, knew by the beautiful sounds that bubbled forth from parted lips, that her girlfriend wasn't entirely in this world, and she slowed her motions in favor of watching. When Brittany's eyes snapped back open, when the serene look on her face made Santana's heart swell with a greater love than even before, Santana pushed her fingers back inside, curling them in just the right spot, releasing her own moan as she felt Brittany's walls tighten around her, and an intense orgasm crash over the beautiful blonde. Lifting her head up, leaving her hand in place as aftershocks jittered through Brittany's body, Santana slid upwards, lying over her, kissing drooping eyelids, warm cheeks, and finally, parted lips.

"My pretty girl." Santana hummed, taken by Brittany's disheveled state and slowly withdrawing from inside of her, bringing both hands to cradle her face.

"You're  _amazing."_ Brittany's breathing sped up, tasting herself in Santana's mouth, and another jolt of arousal shot through her. She wanted more of Santana, she  _needed_ to make her feel as good as she felt. Her hands dragged over the swell of Santana's ass, and she pulled her closer, avoiding putting too much weight on the bruised flesh when she rolled them over. Immediately, she ravished Santana's neck, relishing the taste of salty skin on her lips as the girl below her tilted her head back, offering herself entirely to Brittany.

Santana squirmed and writhed beneath her, and as much as Brittany wanted to tease her, she was too desperate to touch her for the first time. Running her hands over burning flesh, Brittany fused their lips, simultaneously sliding her tongue into Santana's mouth and her hand between her legs. At Santana's needy whine, Brittany stroked her, not fully entering her, but building her up, letting her thumb press against her clit, and her fingers stroke hesitantly through.

"Oh,  _god."_ Santana bit down on Brittany's lower lip, knowing she'd never touched another woman in that way, and wanting to encourage the actions that made her whole being spark.

Growing bolder, and smiling into Santana's mouth, Brittany continued her explorations, finally slipping two fingers inside of her girlfriend and swallowing the groan that ripped forth. As Brittany moved, Santana wrapped her arms around her neck, holding fast, wanting her as close as she could get. It surprised them both that Santana never drifted into Brittany's former world, that she remained entirely in the present, even as she crashed over the edge, crying out her lover's name as she did.

"You saw it." Santana whispered, after her breathing slowed, and Brittany had pulled the heavy blanket roll over both of them, and they lie back on their sides again, Santana's face tucked into Brittany's neck, and limbs all tangled together.

"I did. I don't know how, but I saw, and it's as beautiful as you said. I can't believe that's where I come from, that that's a  _real_ place out there. I don't know how you did it, but  _thank you_ for showing me."

Brittany fell asleep almost immediately after that, her words and eyes growing sleepier, exhausted from the intensity of the entire experience, but Santana didn't follow behind. She lie there, wide awake, realizing that never before in her life had she felt so fulfilled, yet so hollow all at once, the wonderment she'd seen in Brittany's eyes about her home almost haunting her. Watching Brittany, mouth curved upward, even in sleep, her chest ached, and though she wanted to stay cocooned in her girl's embrace forever, she was fairly certain that if she didn't get up, if she didn't breathe in fresh air, she would either spontaneously combust, or start to cry, she wasn't sure which. Slowly slipping free of Brittany's grasp, so careful not to wake the sleeping beauty, Santana kissed her lips and tucked the blanket around her. Even in the warmth of the tent, a chill from the night air ran through her body, and she quickly pulled back on her pajamas, donning Brittany's discarded sweatshirt for extra warmth.

Stepping outside, Santana took a deep breath, looking up at the star speckled sky and trying to compose herself. She wasn't supposed to be  _upset_ about Brittany seeing the beauty of her home planet, a few days earlier, she'd wanted  _so_ badly to share what she'd seen with her. The problem was, that flicker of fear over losing Brittany had grown, stoked by every kiss, every touch (and  _maybe_ doused in propane the moment their clothes came off), and though they hadn't been in each other's lives very long at all, her affections for her were so overpowering that she wasn't sure how she could handle the pain that would come if Brittany suddenly left, not even just her, but  _Earth_ entirely. Sitting down on the same tree stump she'd been on earlier, happily watching Brittany construct their tent, she pulled the pendant free from beneath her clothing, and turned it in her hands. It still glowed, stronger, perhaps, than it had been earlier, and somehow, it felt like a genuine extension of the woman who's arms Santana should have been sleeping in, a thought that finally forced the first tears from her eyes.

"Santana?" Brittany called a while later, after Santana had mostly cried it out, reaching the point where she just felt incredibly selfish for her thoughts. When she saw her favorite human seated across the way, Brittany stepped out, forgoing shoes, and padding over in her thick wool socks.

"Hey." She tried to play it cool Brittany sat down beside her, curling an arm around her waist and watching the way she cradled the foreign stone in her hands.

"What's wrong? Santana, were you crying? Are you alright?"

"I'm okay, I'm fine, don't worry."

"Did I...did I do something wrong?" Brittany's voice was small and her eyes were fearful, not understanding why her girlfriend could possibly have needed to run away and cry after the first time they'd made love,  _especially_ because Brittany was positive it was the most beautiful thing that she herself had experienced.

"No, no, Brittany, of course you didn't, it was perfect, you were perfect, you  _are_ perfect." Santana turned to look in her eyes, making her see the sincerity there. "I'm just...Britt." She took a deep breath, really unsure of what was going to come out if her mouth in her vulnerable state. "I...I've been with girls before."

"I know?" Her voice lilted upward in question, not really understanding what Santana was trying to say. "Is it…was I not as good as they were? Because-"

"Oh God,  _no!_ That's not it at all, I'm sorry, I suck at making this point, the point is no one else ever made me feel anything, not in my soul. But with you, it was just amazing, you light me up, or something. You just  _kiss_ me and it's better than anything else I've ever felt. That's the thing, I've never done feelings before, and now that I  _am,_ I just didn't know they were going to scare me this much."

"Your feelings for me scare you?"

"The idea of ever  _losing_ you scares me, and I'm sorry, I sound so selfish right now, because I  _want_ you to do whatever it is you were destined to do, but I just..." Santana sniffled a little, tears falling again. "Brittany, I know that we're really new, and it's confusing for me, but I'm  _not_ confused about the fact that I'm  _in love_ with you. I'm so in love with you, and I'm terrified of feeling this way. You don't have to say anything back, I know that-"

"Oh, honey." Brittany let the new endearment slip from her lips, cutting the rambling woman off. "Please don't be scared,  _please._ I can't believe that I haven't revealed every single thing I feel for you with every kiss, even with every  _look._ I think that I've loved you since the first time I saw you, but that day I kissed you in the rain, I knew it wasn't just some unrequited crush. I'm so in love with you too."

"I'm don't want you to go." She confessed breathily, clasping Brittany's hands and looking up to the sky. "I just got you, and I know, I  _know_ it's so selfish, and I want you to find out everything, and I want you to fulfill whatever plan there was for you when you came here, but the thought of you not being here, I hate it, and I  _hate_ that I hate it, because knowing who you are is so important."

"I'm not." Brittany reached over and cupped Santana's cheek, forcing her to look in her eyes. "Santana, I'm not going  _anywhere."_

"Brittany, there's a whole universe out there."

"I know there is. Listen-" Brittany shifted closer to Santana, snuggling into her warmth, realizing how cold it was without the sweatshirt that had been pilfered from her. "This planet,  _Roswell_ has been the only home I've ever known. I've always wondered, from that first night out in the desert, where I came from, but as time passed, I stopped seeing that as a place I was going to return to, and as just a part of my past. Sam and I have talked about this…I should have told you what I was thinking about finding the fourth alien, I just, I assumed you knew, I guess, we won't leave our home. I want to know, I  _need_ to know where I came from, so I can understand who I am, and why I have the abilities that I do, but every single day, I feel more and more human, and every single day, I'm more and more sure that there was a reason more important than my home planet why I came to Earth."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, I really don't. It's just, I feel like all of  _this_ is bigger than we think. This pull between us, the fact that I was in the diner that day when you were shot, you being able to  _wear_ the necklace, when Quinn and Sam can't even get near it, the way you can see the things I can't remember. You're special to me, because I love you, but the more that happens between us, the more I believe it's more even than just that."

"How?"

"Santana, I have absolutely no idea. Maybe I totally wrong, and this is just what happens when my kind fall in love. More questions for the fourth alien, I just hope we find them soon, because things seem like they get more bizarre every day."

"Maybe tomorrow is the day."

"I hope. I hope so much." Brittany leaned into Santana, who had dropped one hand in favor of rubbing up the arm of her thermal shirt to keep her warm. "Don't worry, okay? You're stuck with me. I'm not going anywhere, I-"

"Don't promise." Santana barely squeaked, as hard as those words were for her to get out, pressing two fingers to Brittany's lips. "I don't want to lose you, but I also don't want you to be bound by a promise if you  _need_ to go. Okay?"

"Okay." Brittany brushed the lingering tears from Santana's lashes, and kissed her again, before staring up at the stars, brighter than normal on the moonless night. "But I  _will_ promise that if I have to go, I will  _always_ find you again. You'll draw me back to you, even if I were sixty-billion light years away."

"I'll hold you to that one." Her laugh was light, and they sat for a long while, wrapped in each other, staring up at the dark night sky, both thinking of that far off black planet, of the alien that held all of the answers they sought. "Britt, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Earlier, when you paired me with Quinn for tomorrow, instead of Sam, she was really surprised, and I kind of was too. I mean, I trust your judgement, a thousand percent, but I'm just curious why?"

"I love my brother." Brittany looked down, feeling shameful that did was even speaking this out loud. "But he doesn't use his abilities as much as Quinn does, and I don't think his reaction time is as quick, but he's like me, and he thinks with his heart, and Mercedes is safer with him because of whatever his budding feelings for her are, it'll make him react faster. I know we probably don't need to worry about anything, but if I'm not the one who's with you, I want to know that you're with the one who's brash and reactionary, Quinn doesn't care who it is she's protecting, if it's what she has to do, she'll do it with the same dedication. We might not get along these days, but if anything happens in the woods, she will protect you."

"Thank you for keeping me safe." Santana smiled, pressing her lips to Brittany's temple. "Please be careful out there too. You're going to be with him first, all by yourself..."

"I know. I'll be fine, don't worry." She brought Santana's fingers to her lips and held them there, making another silent promise. "It's late, and it's really getting cold out here. Come back to bed with me now?"

"Definitely. I won't sneak out again."

"Well I'm kind of glad you did the first time. You told me you love me."

"I did." Santana's lips tugged into another smile. "And you told me you love me back."

* * *

Contented, Santana and Brittany fell asleep in each other's arms, trading soft kisses and fluttering eyelashes. Both were a little sore when they woke up the next morning, stretching and groaning as they attempted to go about their day. Santana, not wanting to take any chances about being unprepared for the night, ended up staying back at camp while the other's went on the group nature hike. Though Mercedes had offered to stay behind with her, Santana waved off the offer, wanting some time to herself to think, and figuring at the  _very_ least, she could stare some more at the empty notebook she was supposed to be starting her college essay in. By late in the afternoon, she was bored out of her mind, having spent  _most_ of the day fantasizing about the previous night's activities, another good portion filling pages and pages of her notebook with hearts and various combinations of her and Brittany's name (she was still only seventeen, after all, even if her relationship with Brittany felt so entirely  _adult_ ), and the rest stressing over what was going to happen that night.

Brittany, for her part, thought about mostly the same things, all the while avoiding more of Quinn's prying questions (she  _knew_ something big had happened, but Brittany's lips were sealed), and occasionally teasing Sam about the way he couldn't keep his eyes, possessive, almost, off of Mercedes, as she chatted innocently with the exchange student from Ireland who's name escaped all of them. The hike was beautiful, Brittany couldn't deny that, especially because she  _loved_ hitting the trails, but she was distracted by the thoughts of something more beautiful, distracted by images of Santana Lopez, hair fanned out on a pillow, writhing beneath her as she brought her to ecstasy. It was hard for her to believe it wasn't a fantasy anymore, hard for her to believe that she had actually _witnessed_ that open, wanting look in deep brown eyes, and the more she recalled it, the more she was desperate to see her love that way again. Truth be told, it was the  _only_ thing that kept her from going insane thinking about the world of possibilities (or, entire lack thereof) that might come from their nighttime journey into the woods.

When the hikers returned to camp, sun setting, Brittany couldn't keep her smile to herself at Santana, standing beside Mrs. Rose, the lunch lady who'd agreed to come cook for them all, at the fire, helping to dish out baked beans and hot dogs. Standing in line with the others, Brittany shifted impatiently, wanting just to be closer to Santana, feeling, admittedly, needy for her affection after their monumental night, and then their day apart. Finally reaching the front, their fingers brushed as a plate was pressed into pale hands, and Brittany shivered at the sparks, before meeting Santana's eyes for a quick glance, the simple exchange of energy taking her breath away. After dinner, the five members of the alien alliance slowly trickled back to their tents with Santana beating Brittany back. The moment Brittany unzipped the tent and found Santana preparing their warmer clothing for the night, she pulled her in for a heated kiss, holding the smaller girl up when her knees buckled. As much as Brittany craved pushing Santana down on the mattress though, as much as she craved burying her face between quivering, tanned thighs, she knew she couldn't get carried away, not yet, at least, and reluctantly, she pulled back, pecking plump lips a few more times, before they both dressed in silence (intentionally avoiding looking at each other in states of undress) and went to the clearing to meet the others.

"Quinn." Brittany approached her, eyes serious.

"I know, Brittany, don't let her die, don't kill her, don't lose her somewhere in the woods. Check, check, check. I just want to get to this guy and hope he's the one. I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"Yeah, I know you're not. I just wanted to thank you, in advance."

"Well don't. We don't do the mushy love thing. Save it for Santana. We've got a purpose, and she's part of that, that's all I'm concerned about." Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, acting her part, though Brittany couldn't help but think of the previous day, when Quinn had grabbed Santana's bag,  _not_ for a purpose.

"Right, well, be careful." She played along, not getting into the issue of whether or not Quinn had a heart, not while they had bigger issues at hand.

"Yeah. You too."

The five of them walked together for the first mile and a half, Santana's thumb rubbing the back of Brittany's hand as they kept their fingers entwined. At the halfway point, according to the map, and the strangely impeccable sense of direction that the three aliens possessed, it was time for them to split up, and with only a quick kiss on the lips and a world's worth of words exchanged with a single look, Santana stepped back beside Quinn, and watched as Brittany moved first through the thinning trees. When Mercedes and Sam went next, off to the right, Santana was surprised that Mercedes showed no fear, just linked her arm with Sam's, for safety, and maybe something more, and she swallowed her  _own_ anxiety, wanting to get there, wanting to get back to Brittany, wanting, more than anything, for Howard Bamboo (a strange name, for a Native American, she thought) to be the one they sought.

"She gave you the necklace." Quinn stated flatly, once they were on their own, and Santana's hand flew to where it lay, the anxiety that it was no longer hidden entirely unwarranted. "I saw you sitting with it last night."

"You were spying on me?"

"No, I wasn't  _spying_ on you, Lopez. I couldn't sleep,  _someone_ snored all night long, and I went for a walk, heard you blubbering and saw it in your hands."

"She didn't give it to me. I'm just...I'm just keeping it safe right now, so we didn't leave it back in Roswell."

"Whatever. It burned the hell out of me and Sam, and I thought it was broken, how are you even wearing it?"

"I doesn't burn me." She shrugged, and slipped her hand up to where the necklace had been pinned, checking the clasp, especially because they were somewhere it could easily be lost,eyes widening in alarm when she couldn't find the pins. She kept searching, trying to find where they'd repaired it, but she was met only with unbroken chain, something that seemed entirely impossible.

"What's your deal right now? What are you even doing?"

"Fuck. Quinn, the necklace isn't broken anymore."

"Well no shit, you're wearing it, aren't you?"

"We pinned it...we used safety pins...look at it, tell me you see pins." Santana, for the first time in the entirety of her experience with the aliens was entirely freaked out by the magically repaired necklace, the necklace that she was supposed to give back to Brittany, the necklace that she suddenly had no idea how to remove when they got back to Roswell. She tugged it free of her shirt, and Quinn looked, clenching her hands at her side and shaking her head.

"What the  _fuck?_ What the actual  _fuck?_ It repaired itself around your neck? Brittany didn't do this?"

"No, Brittany didn't  _do_ it!" Santana nearly shouted, then reminded herself that she  _couldn't_ be loud. "She couldn't fix it! She tried! What if it's trying to kill me? What if it tightens around my neck and cuts off my air passages and-"

"Whoa! Dial this back like five hundred notches. What kind of freaky horror movies do you watch? You're not afraid of the alien that may or may not have killed several people, you're not afraid of  _me,_ who raised my hand to you once, but you're afraid of a  _necklace?_ And this is why you humans are beyond weird."

"Well why did it fix itself? It sat in Hummel's office for who knows how long, all kinds of broken, and suddenly Brittany pins it to my neck and it's fine?"

"I don't know the answers? Don't you understand why we are even  _looking_ for this alien? None of us know the answers! Can you just  _calm down_ before you fuck up the plan?"

"Easy for you to say when you don't have a necklace that's going to strangle you around your neck." Santana muttered, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"It's not going to strangle you, stop. You're being ridiculous."

"How do you know? You just said you don't know anything."

"Because I  _do_ know that Brittany didn't want me or Sam to touch it, and it burned us, Brittany  _gave_ it to you- and you can  _say_ that she didn't, but she put it around your neck, so that's basically the same- and it fixes itself. I didn't want to admit it, because I wanted something from our planet to be  _mine,_ but I think she must have some kind of subconscious control over it. And if I'm right, it's not going to  _kill_ you, since  _Brittany_ would sooner die than let  _you_ die, absurd as her fascination with you is. She'll probably touch it and magically get it off of you...kind of like your panties."

"What?" Santana found herself laughing, that strange kind of laugh, the kind when something isn't even necessarily funny, but you're not sure how else to even respond.

"You heard me." Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "Now as wonderful as our little chat has been, can you pull yourself together for five minutes so we can get to Brittany? Do you really want her there without my backup for longer than she needs to be?"

"No." Alarm shot through her system, and Santana pushed aside all thoughts of demonic jewelry, in favor of considering her girlfriend's safety, and took off running beside Quinn, one hand still clasped around the pendant as she did so.

* * *

"Brittany! Brittany!" Santana and Quinn screamed in unison as they approached the Reservation, hearing far off echoes of Sam and Mercedes calling her name as well. "Brittany!"

"She's here!" A male voice called back, and though they were out of breath, all four of them ran faster than they ever had, following the sound of the voice, until they met in the middle, finding Brittany playing the role of lost teenager to perfection, staring down at her boots, picking her cuticles nervously.

"Britt! There you are!" Sam threw his arm over his sister's shoulder, squeezing her close to him. "Thank you, thank you sir, for finding her! We've been searching for over an hour."

"I'm alright, Sam." She gave him a tentative smile, and it took everything in Santana to stay behind, not to immediately throw her arms around Brittany (it didn't matter that she hadn't been truly lost, it didn't matter at all), to let Quinn and Sam pretend to fawn over her, since officially, she and Mercedes had been recruited only to help. Having shoved her necklace back under her shirt before they'd made it to the reservation, Santana placed her hand over it, like touching the item that was somehow stuck around her neck could comfort her, and she clung to Mercedes, eyeing the man who looked about as much of a Navajo as his name indicated, something Santana found strange. "I tried to find the bathroom, and then I must have gone the wrong way. I saw lights, and I thought maybe it was there, but it turns out I got all turned around, and I was here."

"Are you hurt at all?" Quinn asked, surveying Brittany's clothing. "We're miles from camp."

"No, no, stop, guys." She brushed them off, and then looked over to the man in the security uniform. "I just met Mr. Bamboo a few minutes ago, he was going to drive me back, once he got clearance from his supervisor."

"You're sure that's okay?" Sam asked, but Howard didn't respond, he simply stared, seconds passing in silence.

"It's happening. It's you." Howard finally breathed, looking between the three blondes, a strange sort of awe struck recognition in his eyes, one that made Santana shiver, that made Mercedes cling more tightly to her friend, both unsure of whether it was a good or a bad thing. "The three of you, she told me you'd come. She told me that she didn't know how long it would take, but that eventually you'd get here. You came looking for her."


	11. Meeting

Brittany felt her heart leap at the words Bamboo spoke, and she attempted to subtly shift her gaze to Quinn and Sam, both of whom stood with mouths agape, attempting to figure out the meaning of what had been said.  _She told me you'd come_ resonated in her ears, and Brittany clenched her jaw, needing to gain some composure before trusting herself to speak. Sensing the struggle of the alien who owned her heart, Santana took two big steps forward, abandoning the role she'd been meant to play, figuring that Bamboo's declaration meant all bets were off, that there was no more pretense of being lost in the woods, that she could comfort Brittany, if that's what she needed. Gently, the brunette pressed her hand against the panicky alien's lower back, and she felt Brittany lean into her touch, felt Brittany's gratitude for the silent support.

"Who?" Brittany finally spoke, half-expecting Quinn to beat her to it. "Who are you talking about?"

"I was told to never speak of this to anyone." Bamboo turned his wary eyes to Santana and Mercedes. "They are not your kind, am I right?"

"They're with us." Brittany found her voice getting stronger, and she searched blindly for Santana's hand, every cell in her being relaxing when sure fingers entwined with hers. "You're right, they're not our kind, but they can be trusted."

"We need to go somewhere else. There are too many ears around here for what I'm about to tell you."

"The five of us." Brittany was firm, and Bamboo simply nodded, leading them over to an old Ford Bronco.

Silently, Sam lifted the seat, and the four girls squeezed into the back, Quinn behind the driver's seat, right hand extended, in case she needed to react quickly. After Mercedes took her place in the center, Brittany pulled Santana onto her lap, needing the girl as close to her as possible, feeling unbearably anxious that they may be moments away from gaining answers to the ever growing lot of questions that swam about in her head. With Brittany's arms secure around her waist, the bumps in the road jostling her whole body, once Sam and Howard climbed into the front seat (with Sam checking back at Mercedes, Brittany noticed), Santana slipped her hand under Brittany's jacket, running fingertips up and down goosebumped sides, trying with all her might to help the girl who held her so tightly, so protectively.

"I love you." Santana mouthed, catching glistening blue eyes. "I love you a lot."

"Thank you." Brittany murmured into the soft skin of Santana's neck, feeling a nervous pulse beat into her mouth. "I love you too."

Howard Bamboo kept his eyes trained on the road, finding it difficult to believe that the moment he'd been prepared for by the woman who raised him was finally happening. He had expected them to come, he'd heard the descriptions of them, of what they'd look like in the stages of their life, present and future, but he'd never expected them to come with  _humans_. She (the form she took with him was always a  _she_ , and he believed she was naturally female, though he knew the being sometimes acquired a male alias) was hesitant around all humans, having taken to him simply because he was a motherless child, and in having him with her, she was more easily taken in by the community they'd joined, but she  _never_  trusted another but him, not with the her deepest secret, her secret that, if revealed, could compromise her very existence.

When they reached an isolated spot, a place where the only lights were those that came from the headlights of his truck, Bamboo cut the engine and climbed out of the car, grabbing the small flashlight from under his seat, and using it to light a path ahead of him. He watched as the three, and their two humans followed him, paying particular attention to the taller of the girls, and the way she clung to the lighter skinned of the two humans. He'd heard the woman who'd acted as his mother murmur things, back when he was a small child and supposed to be asleep, things he had long forgotten, thoughts that reignited in his mind when he watched the way the two of them interacted, thoughts that made his skin prickle when he caught a glimpse of strange yellow light that emanated forth from the human, even from under a scarf and jacket.

"Where are we?" Brittany asked, still holding fast to Santana's hand, bringing her closer to Quinn, Sam and Mercedes.

"Nowhere of importance." Bamboo answered, understanding the undertones of the question. "Just away from where anyone will hear us speak."

"How did you know who we were?" Quinn asked, voice cracking slightly, even after the initial shock had worn off. "Who are you?"

"I am not one of you, if that is what you're asking." He replied, and she nodded. "But it was one of your kind who raised me.  _A_ _na'_ _í_ , we say, in the language of my adopted people."

" _Ana'_ _í_." Sam repeated, and Brittany nudged him with her elbow, surprisingly playful, for the situation, when she thought he was thinking of Na'vi, and  _Avatar_ , and whatever else he'd gleaned from his fascination with that movie.

"It means  _alien_ , or  _foreigner,_  depending. But for she, and you, it's the latter."

"Who?" Brittany repeated, trying to let the circling of Santana's thumb on her wrist keep her from shouting her impatience.

"I'm getting to that." He responded simply. "The  _ana'_ _í_  that you're seeking, she found me when I was six weeks old, on the steps of a fire station near Santa Fe. She had assumed, considering where she found me, that I was a Native American child, and for that reason, she took the alias Shima Dehaaya, and she changed her face to suit the name."

"She can change her face?" Sam asked, touching his own.

"Yes. She is a shapeshifter, I've seen it with my own eyes, how she can go from one form to another. But from what she told me, you are not like her." He shook his head. "She took me here, and she called me Howard, she told the others that I was her son. When I grew older, it was apparent that I wasn't a Navajo after all, but when they began gossiping, she told them that my father was a foreigner, and that's where I got my features. In school, they called me  _ana'_ _í_ , in the other sense, and when I was even older, they started calling me Howard Bamboo, because they weren't very creative with their nicknames, and the name stuck."

"Okay, as sad of a story as this is, can you get to who  _she_  is?" Quinn bit her lip, impatient, and Howard glared at her.

"It is all part of the story, you will wait until I get to the point. It was around the time that they began teasing me in school that I started noticing that my mother- because that's who I thought she was still- was different too. She tried to hide them, but I noticed her abilities, and when I was thirteen, she sat me down, and told me that she was not of this Earth."

"What did you do?" Santana squeaked, although she wasn't sure she was allowed to speak.

"What would you do, if someone you cared for told you that they weren't who you thought?" He asked her pointedly, and she peered, ever so slightly, at Brittany. "I said nothing to no one. She told me that her secret could get us both killed. It was a big responsibility for someone barely past a boy, and she kept me mostly in the dark, because the more I knew, the more danger I was in."

"But she told you about us?" Brittany looked at Howard, and he nodded.

"Two years ago, a police officer came to the reservation. He began asking questions about 1947, and I'd never seen her the way she was then, like a caged animal. The next day, she told me about the three beings that she was waiting for, the ones who had to seek her out on their own. She drew me detailed pictures of what you each would look like, she made me memorize your faces, and then she lit the paper on fire. The next day, Shima was dead."

"She's  _dead?_ " Brittany gasped, heart sinking, and Santana pulled their joined hands to her heart, trying to offer comfort, though she wasn't sure how she could.

"Shima Dehaaya is dead, yes. But a month after we buried the body, I was out in the forest, at the stream where I used to fish, and a woman I'd never seen before appeared beside me."

"She changed her face." Quinn finished, knowingly.

"Yes, she created a new identity, to keep that man from finding out who she was."

"He thinks it's you." Sam revealed, certain it was Hummel who'd been there.

"Let him think that. I am as human as they come. If he comes for me, he will find nothing."

"But who  _is_  she?" Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, looking much like an indignant child.

"I have revealed enough to you, she will reveal the rest."

"She's here?" Brittany continued squeezing Santana's hand, keeping it where it lay, the beat of her heart and the hardness of the necklace soothing.

"No. I will go to her, and in two days, at sundown, she'll meet you out in the desert, near the rock formation twelve miles south of Roswell."

"Two days?" Quinn exploded, and Sam grabbed her arm quickly, fearing her reaction. "No! We came all the way out here, you need to take us to her  _now!_ "

"I'm afraid I can't. These are the instructions she gave me, the orders she wanted me to pass on to you when you came."

"But-"

"Quinn, leave it." Brittany snapped at her, not wanting anything to compromise their opportunity to meet the mysterious being. Turning back to Howard, she gave a single nod. "We will be there."

"I will tell her." He promised, and when the phone on his hip rang, he answered it. "Yeah, boss, I got 'er with me. Just drivin' back down now. I'll be 'round soon." Hanging up, he saw the way they all looked at him, questioning his speech patterns. "We all play the roles they want us to, don't we? She taught me to act like an idiot, if they think you're smart, they ask you more questions. We need to leave now, I have to get back."

Howard would answer no further questions on the ride, and Brittany was fairly convinced that he didn't actually  _know_ the answers. It seemed like the elusive  _she_  had kept him mostly in the dark, and Brittany, playing with Santana's hair, as her head rested on her shoulder, felt sad for him, having been raised by a woman so full of deep, dangerous secrets. When they reached the furthest point on the vehicular trail, only having a few minutes left to walk back to their camp (Howard, knowing who they were, was unconcerned about them making it the rest of the way), Brittany stood before the man and offered her hand, shaking it in gratitude, a gesture that both Sam and Quinn followed suit.

Brittany expected Quinn to blow up on the walk, after Brittany had snapped at her, but she didn't say a word, she simply waked a few steps ahead, lost in her own head. It was after midnight by the time they made it back to the clearing in front of Brittany and Santana's tent, and the silence between them all still hadn't been broken. Having nothing to say, Quinn nodded a simple goodnight, and after giving Santana a look of concern, one she quickly shook off, Mercedes followed suit.

"Good night, Britt." Sam put an arm around his sister, and she reciprocated fiercely, pulling him into a full on hug. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just overwhelmed. In two days, we're going to have all of the answers. She's real, and even if she had a motive behind it, she took in a baby thirty-six years ago and  _raised_ him. It seems like he  _really_  cares about her too. I feel a lot better about this than I did."

"She definitely seems a little less murdery now." He tried to joke, but thick with emotion, it got caught in his throat. "I hope that's true, and he's not just some kind of decoy. It's going to be a long two days."

"You've got that right."

"Night, Santana." Sam pulled away from Brittany and gave her a small wave, silently asking him to take care of his sister, a request she nodded her response to.

"See you tomorrow, Sam."

Brittany was fidgety when they went into their tent, and as much as Santana wanted to take the girl in her arms, she could tell she needed time to process, so she sat cross-legged on the bed and watched as she paced a six foot space. Brittany felt a tingling anticipation course through her veins, one she could only liken to waiting for Santa as a kid, amplified one hundredfold. It was happening, she was going to get answers, she was going to know where in the universe she came from, she was hopefully going to know why things seemed to keep getting stranger and stranger, she was going to meet someone who  _remembered_  the forty-seven crash, if the pictures proved true, and it was  _a lot_  to take. After a good ten minutes passed of running questions through her head, Brittany turned toward Santana, having almost forgotten that it was late at night, and the human girl needed more sleep than her. She was sitting there on the bed, dark eyes watchful, once again wearing Brittany's sweatshirt, once again turning the glowing pendant over in her hand. Relaxing at the sight, and smiling softly, Brittany sat down on the bed and crawled into Santana's arms.

"Mmm, feels good." Brittany hummed as Santana rubbed circles on her lower back and dropped gentle kisses on her hairline. "Sorry, that was just a lot more overwhelming than I expected."

"You don't have to be sorry, Britt. It was overwhelming for  _me_ , and I'm not even someone that the  _ana'_ _í_ has been waiting for."

"She knew what we look like. I don't understand, she knew what we looked like  _now_ , not when we were in those incubation pods, I don't understand how she'd know that, and why she wouldn't just come find us in the first place."

"There has to be a reason she didn't. Maybe it wasn't safe, I don't know."

"I guess." Brittany sighed. "It just seems like kind of a crappy thing to do, leaving us to fend for ourselves. What if you hadn't been shot? What if Hummel hadn't shown you the pictures of those bodies? Would it have been  _another_  ten years before we realized she was even out there?"

"When people say this to me, I kind of want to haul off and slap them, because it's cliche, and I think kind of a cop out, but  _maybe_  everything really does happen for a reason. It's totally a shitty catalyst, me getting shot and you almost getting caught saving me, but if it brought you to finding who you really are, I think it's okay."

"It brought me more than that, Santana." Brittany tilted her chin up, searching dark eyes that reflected the golden light.

"I know." She hesitated for a moment, knowing that Brittany was already overwhelmed, but also that she couldn't keep a development as major as what happened in the woods from her. "I need to tell you something."

"What?" Brittany's face registered alarm, and Santana squeezed her hand, reassuring Brittany, as much as herself, that it was okay.

"Something happened with the necklace." She slowly turned the chain so that Brittany could see the unbroken links, and watched as blue eyes widened in uncertainty and confusion. "I-I don't know how it happened, Quinn, she-"

"Quinn?"

"She saw me outside of our tent last night." Santana confessed quietly, having forgotten that Brittany didn't know about that. "I didn't know that she was there, and she told me in the woods earlier that she knew I had the necklace."

"So she was spying on us."

"No, yes, I don't know, she says she wasn't. But she was surprised that I could touch it, obviously, and then I went to check the pins, because I was so nervous about losing it...and there  _were_ no pins."

"Okay. Okay." Brittany took a deep breath, fingering the chain, trying to find any sign of give in the metal, but coming up short. "How is this even possible?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

"Are you okay? God, I keep exposing you to more and more things that you shouldn't have to handle."

"It's my choice to be exposed to it, Brittany, and if these are the choices that mean I'm with you, I would make them a million times over." She caught both of Brittany's hands and held them over the chain. "I freaked out in the woods, I thought maybe the necklace was going to try to kill me, but Quinn was really rational about it."

"Quinn?" Brittany gave Santana a skeptical look. "Quinn was rational? She didn't throw a fit about you having the necklace to begin with?"

"I know. I  _know_  that sounds even crazier than almost  _anything_  I've ever seen, but yeah, that's what happened. "You said last night that you thought there was something special between us, and I don't know, I kind of think she's realizing that too."

"This whole day has been just surreal." She attempted to manipulate the chain, but the molecules proved impossible to shift.

"That's an understatement." Santana moved to lie down, and Brittany lied beside her, kissing her softly. "I think maybe the best thing to do is go to sleep and figure everything out- including what I'm supposed to do with a stolen necklace stuck to my neck when we get back to Roswell- in the morning."

"Okay." Brittany closed her hand around the yellow stone, feeling, for some reason, like she needed to cradle it like that. "Good night, Santana."

"Good night, Britt." She closed her eyes, and several minutes passed, wide awake.

"I love you." Brittany whispered into the darkness, unsure if Santana was still awake, but she was, and she'd heard, smiling and moving impossibly closer to her alien.

"I love you too."

Despite Brittany's reassurances to Santana that they would figure it all out in the morning, she didn't sleep much, instead, she took to worrying the chain between her fingers, entirely confused about why it couldn't be removed, and what that meant for her girlfriend's safety. Though Howard Bamboo and the fourth alien weighed heavy on her mind, her immediate concern was the miraculously healing metal, a concern, unfortunately, that she knew may not be abated until the meeting in the desert.

The next day began with a flurry of activity, taking down tents, packing everything up, and racing to get the bus at ten o'clock. Before they left their little oasis in the woods, Santana and Brittany kissed several times, held each other close, unsure whether or not Brittany would be able to come by that night, especially since Santana was supposed to work, and she  _knew_ that afterwards, her mother would be all over her, checking her bruises, and demanding to spend time with her. Knowing they had  _enough_  to hide, Brittany did a final once over of Santana's sensitive skin, making Santana pout a little as she healed a lingering silverish mark below her ear (Brittany's favorite spot to put her lips on, she'd decided, anxious as she was to get her lips on  _other_  parts, once they weren't surrounded by chaos). With a final peck, they parted ways, Santana glancing quickly over her shoulder as she and Mercedes went first, and Brittany, feeling sentimental, drawing a heart over her face, while ignoring some sarcastic comment from Quinn.

* * *

Rather than get dressed for work in the locker room of the diner and risk one of the other girls (or Puck, since he was known to peek through the crack from the kitchen, a habit that had earned him a handprint on his cheek on more than one occasion), Santana came down from her bedroom in her uniform, taking special care to tuck the pendant deep within her cleavage, and, a task far more difficult, to hide the conspicuous chain. Sunday evenings were always busy at the Intergalactic Diner, and though she and Mercedes split the dining room with two other girls, they had hardly a second to speak to each other, hardly a second to even breathe. At a quarter-to-nine, when the final round of tables began trickling out, Santana was cashing out Sunshine's tips and sending her home. Preoccupied by the numbers she was mentally crunching, she was caught by surprise when she looked up and found Hummel standing over her. Resisting the urgent desire to grab for her chest, Santana sucked in a deep breath and painted on her most convincing fake smile.

"Good evening, Sheriff."

"Evening, Miss Lopez." He tipped his hat, and she could tell that his smile was as false as her own. "Heard you went on that camping trip this weekend, did you have a nice time?"

"I did, sir, thank you. It's a shame Kurt missed it, Mercedes and I had a  _great_  time." She tilted her head in the direction of the other waitress, and Mercedes offered a small wave in return.

"Well, you know my boy, that's not really his thing. Funny though, I wouldn't have taken you for the camping type either."

"Just trying new things out, college application time, you know? I really can't have too much on there." Santana shrugged, and Hummel simply hummed a response, letting more than a minute pass without speaking.

"Bunch of you went, right? I know Paul Karofsky's son was talking about how him and a bunch of the football guys were going when I saw him down at the station last week. And Evan Pierce told me his two were headed out there."

"Yeah, I think they were all there, I'm not sure, Mercedes and I weren't exactly the most well suited for it, honestly, and we sort of kept to ourselves." Santana tried not to stiffen at the mention of Brittany and Sam, tried to keep her twitching fingers from seeking out the gem that almost seemed to pulsate with her heartbeat. "I don't mean to be rude, sir, but we're starting to close up. Was there something I could get for you?"

"Oh, right. Let me get a cup of coffee and a slice of that Screaming Alien Cherry Pie." He requested, and Santana held back a shudder, hearing him say the words  _screaming alien_.

"Right away." She grabbed his thermos and sashayed over to the coffee pot, filling it up as quickly as she could, before dishing the pie into an aluminum container and setting both back down in front of him. "Here you go, Sheriff. You're all set."

"I still have to pay." He reminded her, and she simply shook her head.

"On the house tonight, it's all going to get tossed in twenty minutes anyway."

"Well alright then, thank you very much. You have yourself a good night."

Tossing a few dollars in the tip jar, Hummel tipped his hat and was out the door. When the last of the customers finally went home, Santana sent Sunshine and Harmony on their way, and started counting out the register, while Mercedes worked on filling the sugar shakers. Once Puck and Nick, the dishwasher, were cleaned up and out, Mercedes locked the door behind them, and sat down at one of the counter stools across from Santana, bringing with her the bin of clean silverware to be rolled.

"That guy has got to be fucking kidding me.  _Evan Pierce told me his two were headed out there._ " Santana mimicked, gritting her teeth. "He has no  _right_  to casually mention Brittany, not after he basically called her a murderer, after he went and started poking around the Reservation."

"Oh, don't I know it?" Mercedes rolled her eyes. "I think he's convinced that he has to play nice with you now, especially since we know about his alien hunt."

"Well he  _sucks_  at it. He's got his son playing narc, he asks me about Britt, if he has any plan for me to ever warm up to him again, he should try leaving me alone."

"You're not  _ever_  going to warm up to him though."

"Still, he doesn't know that." She pressed her hand against her chest, just making sure her permanent jewelry was still hidden.

"What's up with you doing that all night? I kept thinking you were having a heart attack or something."

"My heart isn't in my boobs, 'Ce, gorgeous as they are." Santana teased, then looked around cautiously, before tugging her necklace free. "This would be the necklace that Britt and the others stole from Hummel's office."

"Oh, good, you're back to being  _insane_ , I was starting to get worried. Why are you  _wearing_  it? Here. In Roswell. Where Hummel is onto us."

"I don't actually have a choice in the matter." Santana muttered, though having accepted that it wasn't going to kill her, she actually  _loved_  having it on her at all times, loved the honor of wearing something Brittany had given to her, something from an entirely different world, dangerous as it may have been. "It sort of fused itself back together around my neck, and Britt couldn't get it to budge."

"What the hell? What about Sam and Quinn?"

"They can't get close enough to try. It, um, it burned them when they tried."

"And I'm just now finding out about this?" Mercedes shouted, and Santana gestured up to the ceiling, indicating that her parents were up there and she needed to keep it quiet.

"It actually wasn't really a  _thing_ until last night. Britt had it hidden with the papers in my wall, she didn't want to leave it here, so she gave it to me to wear on Thursday. Wasn't a big deal until the safety pins that held it together were gone. And since then, we kind of met the fourth alien's gatekeeper, and have been at work all day, so..."

"You are so damn nonchalant about everything. I swear, next week you're going to have been abducted by a gang of rival aliens while I'm in calc, and I won't hear about it for a week."

"Shut up, 'Cedes, I've been dying to talk to you. I have  _so_  much to tell you, stuff that isn't alien related too. Well, I guess it's  _kind of_  alien related, since it has to do with Brittany."

"You are incapable of saying her name without smiling, you're so love sick."

"Does it still count as love sick if I've told her I love her?"

"You did what?" Mercedes' jaw dropped. "Oh, girl, we need to finish off this chocolate pudding pie, and you need to spill  _everything._ "

" _Everything?_ " Santana raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"You guys  _did it_  too? What the hell? When did all this happen?"

"Friday night, and it was  _incredible_. Also, 'Ce, you can say  _sex_ , just so you know. The word isn't going to bite you."

"I've decided I've lost all knowledge of who you even  _are_  anymore. You are so shmoopy now."

"Shmoopy? Seriously, you have  _got_  to stop hanging out with your grandma." Santana chuckled, and Mercedes flicked whipped cream from the pie at her. "Don't you want to know if she loves me back?"

"Maybe if I lived under a rock for the past ten years. Of course she loves you back. Tell me everything, just do me a favor and skip past all the graphic details of your lady sex please."

"Ew, like I would tell you that anyway. The details are  _way_ too hot to exist anywhere but my mind. I'll start after we had the best sex I've ever had, like, times a billion, and Brittany saw her home planet for the first time."

Although Santana appeared full of bravado, when she'd actually began telling Mercedes the story of her first  _I love you's_  with Brittany, her cheeks colored and she felt almost  _shy._ She wound up skipping parts of the story, thinking they were just a  _little_  too emotionally intimate, even to share with her best friend, and she preferred to keep them for herself, to cherish them within her. Mercedes was strangely gushy while she listened, and by the time she was done speaking, Santana could  _tell_ she had a story to tell, a story she wouldn't even needle her about keeping to herself.

"Sam kissed me." She admitted, casting her eyes down.

"What? When?"

"Yesterday, right before we met you and Britt to go into the woods. It lasted about fifteen seconds, until  _Quinn_  decided it would be fun to ruin the moment."

"She saw you? And she didn't absolutely lose her mind?"

"I mean, she did a little, but I was shocked that she didn't scream down the whole campground. If she'd seen you and Brittany kiss for the first time, she probably would have."

"She's acting  _so_  weird lately. Brittany said she's still acting the same with her, but I'm pretty sure she knows we had sex, and she's been almost  _nice_  to me, and she didn't go crazy on you?"

"I hate to say it, but she  _really_  dislikes Brittany, more than anyone else."

"Yeah. I know, and I  _hate_  it. How do you even hate her? She's just so...so everything." Santana nearly swooned, then checked herself. "So back to important stuff, you kissed Trouty Mouth? And your head wasn't swallowed?"

"Seriously? Oh no, you are  _not_  calling him Trouty Mouth. Where did that even come from?"

"Hey, I like the guy, but you can't deny that his mouth is  _gigantic_. If I had to choose anyone in Roswell that was an alien, I would pick him."

"You are such a bitch. Leave him be, he's sweet, and he's a great kisser."

"And  _I'm_  shmoopy."

"You absolutely are infinitely more shmoopy than me."

"Whatever. I'm in love, I'm allowed to be. So did you see their planet yet? Or the stars?" Santana closed her eyes, almost allowing herself to fantasize about the beautiful things she saw when she kissed Brittany, thoughts that quickly turned from yellow sand and rainbow stars to something significantly less G-rated.

"No, it was a four second kiss. He was nervous, I think, about meeting Bamboo, and he just pulled me in."

"That's actually kind of cute. I give him credit, I didn't think he had it in him."

"Says you, whose girlfriend spent  _years_  giving pining looks to before suddenly amping everything up to warp speed. If Sam is anything like his sister, maybe I should expect a marriage proposal soon."

" _That_  would be insane, and then  _you_  would get to see Quinn flip her shit."

At home, Brittany and Sam had dinner with their parents, then retreated to their separate bedrooms, unsure how they were even supposed to talk about the  _major_  happening the following day. Attempting not to think about it, Brittany flopped back on her bed, checking her phone, and smiling a little at the picture Santana had set to her lock screen, the two of them pressed cheek to cheek, sitting outside their tent on Friday afternoon, how much they loved each other sort of apparent, even before they'd spoke the words. Looking at the time, and seeing it was just after eleven, she considered calling Santana, having grown accustomed so quickly to falling asleep beside her, that she was certain, coupled with her thoughts of Howard Bamboo and the  _a_ _na'i,_ that she would never be able to fall asleep on her own. Eventually deciding against making that phone call, and forcing herself to stop looking at the window and contemplating climbing out, Brittany got up, changed into her pajamas, and after coming out of her bathroom, she flicked off the lights and crawled into bed. Almost an hour passed of lying there, wide awake, when the phone rang, and Brittany nearly rolled off of the bed in an effort to get to it quickly.

" _Hi._ " Santana breathed, before Brittany could even say anything. " _Were you asleep?_ "

"Not even close."

" _Yeah, neither was I._ "

"Well I figured, since you called. Unless sleep calling is a habit of yours that you've never told me about."

" _I meant like I wasn't even close._ " Santana muffled her laugh with blankets, and Brittany smiled to herself, picturing her buried all under the dark comforter on her bed, cuddled up to a pillow. " _I tried, after talking to 'Ce for awhile when we were closing up, and then my mom when I came upstairs, but I'm missing my new favorite pillow._ "

"Oh, is that all I am to you now?"

" _I mean..._ " Santana covered more laughter, and Brittany clicked her tongue. " _You_ are _pretty comfortable, but I also wish you were here for other reasons._ "

" _Other_  reasons, huh?"

" _Yup, many other reasons. There are_ plenty  _of other things we could be doing, rather than just lying here not sleeping_." Santana wound up yawning loudly at that exact moment, putting a stop to Brittany's revitalized consideration toward going over there. " _Sorry._ "

"We really should sleep, you know? Tomorrow is going to be...I don't even know."

" _I'm with you, Britt, no matter what happens, okay?_ "

"I know, and I love you even more for that. But Santana, the same deal applies as when we went to April's. If something happens, you take Mercedes and you run." Santana just sighed, and didn't respond. "Santana."

" _Brittany._ "

"Please don't do this. I can't have you come if I think you're going to do something dangerous, and I really, really need you there with me."

" _It's even harder now, to think about running away and not knowing what is happening to you._ " Santana twisted the chain around her neck and frowned.

"We are both safer if you run. We don't know who she is or what she's capable of. Just please, I need you to make me this promise. I'll always come back to you, remember?"

" _I know you will. It's just..._ " Santana started, then stopped, knowing the argument was pointless, and  _hoping_  there was no reason even for the discussion, hoping that the fact that Howard Bamboo, a _human_ cared for the being, was proof that she wouldn't try to hurt any of them. " _Okay, I promise_."

"Thank you."

" _I know this is seriously lame, but do you think...do you want to stay on the phone until we fall asleep?_ "

"Yeah, I totally do."

* * *

The next morning at school, Brittany was jumpy, trying to focus on her classes, and  _not_  think about what would happen later. By third period, as she sat in Spanish, listening to Mr. Martinez drone on and on about the proper conjugation of the future perfect tense, she thought she was going to go crazy ( _esta noche, yo habr_ _é_ _conocido ella,_ she repeated, the only verb she could think to conjugate,  _to meet)_. Normally, she was intently focused in that class,  _not_ because she knew that Santana occasionally spoke Spanish to her parents or anything, but her mind kept wandering off to some far off yellow planet, and a certain yellow pendant stuck around the neck of the girl she loved. She itched to start making a list of questions, feeling like she had  _so_  many for the only alien who'd been alive in 1947, the only alien who /had/ to remember the place they came from and knew why they were on Earth, but she couldn't exactly sit in class and write down things so dangerous. When her phone in her lap buzzed, she looked down, grateful for the distraction, and smiled inwardly when she saw Santana's name.

_I'm still not totally convinced Terri Delmonico won't be showing up this afternoon._

What did she do now?

_She brought an insane scrapbook of every detail of her wedding to show me. She told me when I get married, she'll help me plan mine. She's not even a real person._

She's obsessed with knowing if you're dating someone.

_I'm aware. It's creepy. But I do wish you weren't a secret. If I could, I'd tell_ _**both** _ _worlds that I love you._

"Señorita Pierce. Is everything alright?" Mr. Martinez called her out, and Brittany blushed from head to toe, knowing that'd she'd totally been grinning down at her lap after seeing that last message.

"I...just feeling a little flushed." She managed, and she heard Quinn snicker from the back of the room.

"If that's the case, you need to head to the nurse."

"No, no. I'm fine." Brittany tried to protest, as appealing as sitting in the nurse's office with Santana was (even with crazy Terri Delmonico).

"You don't look fine, you're very red. If you're ill, we can't have it spreading. Please take your things and go see Miss Delmonico."

As she gathered up her belongings, feeling like a complete fool for essentially getting kicked out of class, Brittany's skin flared hotter, and she tried to get out of the room as quickly as possible. When she walked into the nurse's office, she couldn't stop her smile as seeing Santana leaned over a giant scrapbook, blueberry muffin in one hand and her hair twirled in the other. Terri was talking a mile a minute, and Santana was piping up with noncommittal answers, though Brittany knew as the days passed that her sympathy for Terri and her seeming lack of any real life, or even a grip on reality, was turning into a strange sort of fondness. Wanting to announce her presence, Brittany cleared her throat, and Terri snapped to attention, as she watched Santana slowly turn her head, perhaps already knowing that she was there.

"Oh, it's just a student. I got nervous that you were someone important." Terri looked back down at the book in front of her. "Just, sign your name on that paper and sit down for a minute or something. Let me finish what I'm doing."

"I..um...Mr. Martinez sent me here because I felt flushed, but I think I'm fine." Brittany tried not to let her gaze fall on Santana, but she was sure she could see just the slightest hint of a smirk.

"Are you a medical professional? I mean, I'm not either, but they let me wear this white coat, so I'm more qualified that you." Terri snapped back, huffing reluctantly away from her wedding planning. "Name?"

"Brittany Pierce."

"Brittany Pierce." She repeated, pulling a file, and Brittany was sure that the sense of interest she heard was simply a result of Santana's repeated jokes about Terri being the fourth alien. "Here, have an ice pack, lie down and put it on your head."

"Okay." Brittany nodded, trying  _not_  to brush by Santana on her way over to the cot, as badly as she'd wanted to, for fear that Terri would see how blatantly obvious they were with one another.

"What about her?" Terri asked, nudging Santana. "She's pretty, don't you think?"

"Yes." Santana nearly whispered, her turn to blush, regretting that she'd ever made the small concession of telling the nurse that she was a lesbian (a result of the older woman's  _desperate_ attempts to hook her up with every boy who came through the door for the first few days). "She is, but I'm pretty sure she's taken."

"Well are you?" Terri directed the question at Brittany. "Every show I've ever watched has a high school with interesting romantic relationships. This place is pathetic, I need some excitement."

"I am, taken, I mean, sorry." Brittany sat up, wanting so badly for Terri to turn the other way so she could lock eyes with Santana and give her a special smile. "And she's a keeper too."

"About time!  _She_  should spend her gym periods with me instead of you, maybe I'd actually get a good story out of her, unlike you and your weird little anecdotes about customers in the diner."

"Wow, Miss Delmonico, thanks for replacing me so quick."

"Get over it, or get a more exciting life." Terri rolled her eyes, then jumped back up a few moments later when the door swung open again, revealing a well dressed man with sandy blonde hair and a baby face. "Bryan, honey! What are you doing here?"

"Can't a guy come and take his fiancé to lunch?" The man grinned dopily, kissing Terri's lips, and Santana bit back a scoff at how dorky the guy was (not like she was really one to talk anymore).

"Of course you can, but I still have a few more minutes before this period ends. Want to sit down with us? This is Santana Lopez, head cheerleader who fell off a pyramid. Her father owns that kitchy alien themed diner in town. That's Brittany Pierce, she just got here, and I know nothing about her other than the fact that she has a girlfriend."

"Well then it looks like we should get to know her better before her time here is up. You know how highly I value getting to know the students in this district. Can't make a school work if you don't know the kids, right?"

"I'm pretty much just your average teenager, Mr. Ryan." Brittany tried to sound calm,  _hating_ , for obvious reasons, being interrogated, even if it was just about mundane things like school. Santana could hear the panic behind her words, and was frantic, attempting to figure out what to say to deflect attention from her girlfriend.

"Did you know we have cheerleading regionals coming up in a few weeks?" Santana put on the fake, stereotypical "cheerleader" voice that she used on occasion when she was playing a role. "If we win Nationals this year, it'll be my fourth consecutive national championship. Then I should be a shoe-in for a scholarship at UNM."

"Hmm, interesting, Miss Lopez. Are  _you_  a cheerleader, Miss Pierce?"

"No, I'm not. I kind of just do my own thing."

"Oh, a loner type." Bryan smiled widely, far more interested in that than Santana's cheerleading (not that Santana blamed him, it wasn't all that exciting). "I was like that in high school too. What are _your_ plans for college?"

"I, um, honestly haven't really figured that out yet."

Try as Santana did to help Brittany, Bryan Ryan kept directing the attention back to Brittany, and even her attempts at flirting (which may or may not have gained her a glare from Terri, and a sort of amused jealously from Brittany) were unsuccessful. Santana figured, from the way he'd said he was a loner in high school, that maybe the popular kids had bullied him, and she figured  _that_ was why he was more interested in hearing from Brittany than from her. As the period ended, never before had either girl been so grateful for a ringing bell, and saying goodbye to Terri and Bryan, Santana made the casual observation that she and Brittany had their next class together. Though they couldn't exactly hold hands and run through the hall together, Brittany smiled to herself at the simple pleasure of actually getting to walk her girlfriend to class, and when they parted ways for their respective seats across the room, she physically had to restrain herself from pressing a kiss to those gorgeous lips.

* * *

When the day finally finished, and every one of the five members of the alien alliance were entirely on edge, they met a few blocks from the school, planning to split up among the two cars (though there was room for all of them in one car, no one thought leaving a lone car in the parking lot if their visit with the fourth alien ran late was a great idea). It didn't take much discussing for them to arrange themselves, Sam hopping in with Mercedes, and Santana getting in the Prius with Brittany and Quinn. Though Quinn grumbled about it under her breath, she relegated herself to the back seat even without Brittany asking, and with a nod of gratitude toward the other blonde, Santana climbed in front and held fast to Brittany's hand, rubbing circles on the inside of her wrist to calm her unvoiced nerves. Much like the aliens had been for the past forty-two hours, there was silence for the majority of the car ride, punctuated only by Santana's occasional murmurs of encouragement to her girlfriend, and Quinn's request to make the radio louder so she didn't have to hear it.

The sun wasn't quite setting when they arrived at their destination, and looking at Brittany, who stared directly at it, Santana was sure that she was willing it to sink. Coming up behind her, Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist, and stood on her tiptoes to rest her chin on her shoulder, wanting to be as close to her as possible. They stood like that for a long while, just taking in Sam and Mercedes speaking softly to one another, and Quinn absently blowing up small rocks. Brittany was beside herself, barely able to control the bubbling sense of excitement and fear. Both wanting a distraction, and needing to touch Santana as much as she possibly could, in case something went wrong and they were separated, she turned around, cradling her cheeks in sweaty palms and pressing soft kisses to her lips and face.

"I love you." She whispered, not wanting to share their intimate moment with the others.

"I love you too. And I won't break my promise, Britt. I know that you're worried about it. Just don't break yours either, okay?"

"Never."

They didn't exchange more words, they just emotionally wrapped themselves up in each other, tuning out all but their shared thoughts, and the height of the sun in the sky. Just as it dipped low, the orange light kissing the cracked earth, a figure emerged from the shadows, slowly approaching them. Subconsciously, Brittany stepped just a hair in front of Santana, and the others fell into a line with them, the two humans protected in the middle. Santana found Brittany's hand and clasped it tightly, feeling fearful for the first time, and also feeling like she needed to be  _emotionally_  strong to avoid spooking Brittany further. When a tall blonde finally came into view, Brittany sucked in a breath, feeling a plethora of emotions as she caught the first glimpse of the woman Howard Bamboo had called a shapeshifter. It didn't surprise Santana at the appearance of  _another_  blonde, and she thought, perhaps, that the woman had chosen that particular form in order to be more relatable to the teenagers who stood before her.

"Well damn, don't you all look like you're waiting for your execution." The woman spoke, and Santana could  _hear_ Brittany swallow nervously. "Didn't realize meeting me would make you all so  _miserable._ _"_

"You came." Quinn was the first to find her words, wide eyed and more tentative than Brittany and Sam had ever heard her.

"I've been waiting for sixty-seven years for this moment. When Howard told me you'd found him, it was my happiest moment on this planet."

"You knew what we looked like, why didn't you find us?" Quinn accused.

"Well that's a complicated question, one that would be a lot easier if you were able to remember why you were here in the first place. But from the looks of things, you've managed to accomplish what you came for, even without finding me first."

"Stop speaking in code!" Quinn nearly stomped her feet, and Brittany shot her a glare, wanting to ask so much, but not trusting herself not to simply resign to incoherent babbling.

"I'll tell you everything you need to know, but you need to all prepare yourselves, because this isn't an easy story to hear."

"Can you tell us first who you are?" Brittany asked, looking directly into the strange blue eyes before her, the blue eyes that didn't reflect back the same humanness that she knew her own, and the eyes of Quinn and Sam did, the eyes that were haunting, full of secrets, somehow, without emotion, and full of everything Brittany ever wanted to know.

"Well my dear, I thought you'd never ask." She smiled wryly, like she was holding an excitement deep within her, an excitement that didn't translate into human body language. "In this form, I'm Holly Holliday, substitute teacher. But I guess this temporary identity, this role I have to play, doesn't matter to you, does it? What you want to know is who I am on our home planet. The one whom all of you are intimately connected to."

"Are you..." Brittany felt her heart in her throat, like she'd been so fearful of meeting the alien, that she hadn't even let herself think she may have been somehow connected to them beyond simply their race. "Are you my mother?"

" _Your_  mother, no." Holly shook her head. "I am theirs."

The woman's gaze shifted to Quinn, and so distracted by this feeling of elation for Quinn, that she  _finally_ had someone connected to her, Brittany didn't realize that the other face Holly set her gaze on, the one who stood beside Quinn, was most definitely  _not_ Sam.


	12. Soulmates

Santana was the first to process what was happening, the first to attempt to solve the mystery of what the eyes locked on her meant, and slowly, she began shaking her head back and forth. The shapeshifter was mistaken. Santana Lopez was as human as they came. She had pictures of her mom pregnant, pictures of herself in that little plastic bassinet in the hospital. There was no possible way that a shapeshifting alien from a far off planet could be her mother. No possible way at all. Looking over at Brittany, who was beginning to realize what was being said, Santana tried to will herself to speak, but her voice felt stuck in her throat, as the creeping doubt the everything she'd ever known rose up.

"I think you're mistaken." Brittany spoke before Santana could, never releasing the tight grip she had on her girlfriend's hand. "Santana isn't...Santana's human."

"I was born on August 14th, 1994. At Lovelace Regional Hospital. I've lived in Roswell my whole life. I didn't even know that aliens existed until Brittany saved me in the diner." Santana began babbling, because the longer Holly's eyes bored into her, the more she felt like she had to defend herself.

"All of those things are true. I know everything about you." Holly confirmed, and Santana wasn't sure if she should curl into Brittany, or listen to the promise she made to her and  _run,_ because it felt like things were getting dangerous, and she was terrified. "I also know, beyond any doubt, that you are my firstborn daughter. You're wearing the necklace, are you not?"

"Look, Holly, Mom, Shima, whatever." Quinn snapped, her own emotions going haywire after she had learned she might actually have a  _connection_ with another being...or two, out there. "Can you just stop with the cryptic stuff? Please. We don't know anything that's happening, and you're kind of freaking us out."

"Okay. Maybe I should start at the beginning."

"Is this going to be some  _in a galaxy far, far away_  stuff?" Sam asked, and both blonde girls glared at him, while Brittany wrapped her girlfriend, who looked like she might flee, in her arms.

"I guess you could begin there." Holly nodded. "So, in a galaxy far, far away..."

* * *

_There's a story that happened on the planet of Uecridis, like perhaps every culture has, of love against the greatest odds, of love that maybe should have never been, of love, that unfortunately, ended in the deepest tragedy. Where here, you've learned in school of Romeo and Juliet, or Tristan and Isolde, of Heathcliffe and Cathy, Uecridis has Reyneva and Caderyna. The only difference is, where the other stories are works of fiction, woven into the canon of literature to the point where you forget they never actually occurred, the story of Reyneva and Caderyna is one that's true._

_One family had ruled the east side of Uecridis for as long as time there had existed, and they were a much beloved royalty; fair, generous, and truly noble. When King Fudrich and Quinn Polerma gave birth to their daughter Reyneva, the girl who would someday be queen, there were celebrations all throughout, gifts showered upon her, the whole works. When their second daughter, Azar was born not much later, there was almost no distinction, Uecridis had a new princess, and in their eyes, that was just as exciting as the birth of the one who would be their ruler. Reyneva and Azar grew up together, as close as any sisters ever were, and they were much beloved in their home, beloved by everyone but the group of rebels that inhabited the west side of the planet._

_The rebels,_ the faded ones _, most Uecridians call them, because it seemed as if the souls of their race had long ago wasted away, had been at odds with the royalty of Uecridis for what in our time, is the equivalent of a thousand years, always seeking to rule the planet wholly, and always,_ always  _failing. Hatred for the royalty, for the Uecridian way of life as a whole, is bred into each new generation, and very, very few defect from their ways. On the day of Reyneva's birth, there another monumental birth on Uecridis, a twin birth among the faded ones, rare among our kind, and seen by the rebel leaders as a prophecy that after all that time, they would finally overtake the throne and change the planet to suit their dark ways. Fearing that the royals would be proactive and take the lives of the two they believed were the chosen ones, a fear that was much unfounded, because murder is primarily non-existent among mainstream Uecridian society, the birth of the twins, Caderyna and Ozkari was kept under great wraps, and they were sent like very other child of the Fadelands to train for the eventual takedown of the kingdom._

_While Caderyna and Oskari trained, unbeknownst to the leaders of the rebels, hating every moment of it, born of a demeanor that no other child in their generation was, born with souls, Reyneva and Azar lived the happiest of childhoods that could be imagined. The thing I've learned about royalty here, in this world, is that they isolate themselves from society, but not on Uecridis. There, they're fully immersed in culture, in the people, in the world that they so love, and Reyneva and Azar were no different. They went to school, they engaged in friendly competition- or perhaps not always so friendly when it came to each other, because though they loved and respected one another to the fullest, when it came to sports and games, the princesses were known to fight amongst themselves like no one had ever seen._

_Unfortunately for Reyneva, in the midst of her teenage years, her father, already well up there in age, passed on, and as is customary, the rule of the planet became hers. Unprepared and grieving her father, Reyneva, with the help of her mother and her sister was far more suited to rule than anyone expected, but the rebels still believed they'd found their opportunity to overthrow the crown, and with a vengeance, began preparing Caderyna and Ozkari for the role they were born to fulfill._

_It was Caderyna who came up with the idea to run, and not only because she'd seen that her brother wasn't nearly strong or capable enough, and was more or less unfit to ever fight a battle, but because she couldn't imagine murdering_ anyone _, let alone the Queen. Ozkari, eager to follow the sister that was born just shortly before him, agreed to run with her, agreed to leave behind all that he'd ever known, and make a new life with her far from the Fadelands. In the middle of the reddest of nights, the twins escaped the training encampment and made their way east, stopping only when food and water proved necessary to continue, and by morning, they weren't far outside the kingdom, and were well out of range of any rebels who were designated to track them._

_Finally feeling safe, Caderyna found a river to bathe in, and while she poured the gelatinous water over her bare body, she felt the eyes of another being on her. In a panic, she made to run, but in the process, she slipped on a stone and fell below the water, gasping for the help of her brother. Ozkari didn't hear her, he was off under a fall, washing the journey off of himself as well, and just as Caderyna believed she was as good as dead, she felt a hand slip around her wrist and pull her up from below the surface. Caderyna, fearful that she was being captured, that she'd be dragged back to the place she'd so carefully planned to escape, struggled, attempting to remove herself from the grasp of the female who held her. Though she'd spent her life in training to fight, it was like this other being, so different from all she'd ever known, had a hold over her, and no matter how she tried, she couldn't escape the helping hands._

* * *

Brittany, still holding Santana close, tracing her fingers over hipbones, was entranced by the story, and as Holly continued to speak, she felt as if she was actually  _seeing_ the events come to pass.

* * *

_"What are you doing? Stop pulling away from me, you're going to drown yourself." The voice, like music, ordered, and Caderyna stilled, just to listen. "What's wrong with you?"_

_"I-nothing. Nothing is wrong with me." Caderyna huffed, shielding her nakedness, wishing her sheath wasn't so far off on the shore. The other being's eyes were all over her, and she felt her whole body turn the deepest purple. "It's rude to stare at someone nude."_

_"It's rude to speak in such a way to the person who saved your life."_

_"You didn't save my life, it was you who startled me in the first place, and I could have got myself up, had you not grabbed me."_

_"Well alright then. Your lack of gratitude is appalling. Who raised you to speak in such a way?" Caderyna froze at those words, fearful that she'd been caught, fearful that this creature, more beautiful than any she'd ever seen, would go running for help, would alert someone in the highest of power, perhaps, even, the queen herself._

_"My apologies." She tried, a forced smile hiding a grimace, because she didn't feel apologies were all that necessary. "Please, let me dress now."_

_"Of course."_

_Caderyna realized that it took longer than an instant for the female to let go of her, and she noticed that though she tried to push the feeling away an_ emptiness,  _unlike anything she'd ever felt, seemed to wash over her when their contact was broken. Quickly, she tread to the shore, wrapping herself in the thin material, but feeling those burning almond eyes on her all the while._

_"So are you going to introduce yourself, or what?" The other woman asked, finding a seat on the bank, and tucking her fine clothing beneath her, seemingly oblivious to the way her daring jump into the stream had ruined it, staining it entirely black._

_"But you haven't introduced yourself to me."_

_"Oh." The being laughed, sounding more beautiful, even, than when she spoke, Caderyna thought. "You don't know who I am?"_

_"Am I supposed to?"_

_"I can't tell you what you're_ supposed  _to know, or not. You know what it is that you know. I just assumed. I'm not accustomed to meeting anyone who doesn't know me, or doesn't have some type of expectation of me."_

_"You must be very important, then." Caderyna couldn't help but laugh back, almost smitten._

_"I guess you could say that, stream girl. I'm Reyneva."_

_The moment the name escaped from Reyneva, Caderyna felt her body go rigid. It couldn't be, it couldn't be, that the queen, the very being who Caderyna had once been meant to kill, just walked around, saving strangers from their demise, unarmed, unguarded. Immediately, Caderyna's hatred for her own people increased exponentially, with their desire to destroy innocent lives,_ beautiful  _lives, and she feared for her_ own.  _What would this queen do, if she knew that the one standing before her was born of the faded ones, was the one prophesied to end her very life? She'd be the one killed, for sure, and though those eyes continued to pierce into her, Caderyna knew she had to go, knew she had to get Oskari and keep running._

_"Your majesty, thank you for saving me, but I have to go."_

_"But wait-" Reyneva reached out, the pads of all four fingers brushing Caderyna's shoulder._

_"I apologize, but I'm in quite a hurry." She pulled away, ignoring the burning sensation left in the wake of the Queen's touch, and she ran, she ran like she'd never run before, crying out for Oskari to follow._

* * *

Santana gripped Brittany's hands tightly, the story felt all too familiar to her, like she had read it in Brittany's memories, and hadn't fully recalled it until Holly spoke. As the tall blonde began her tale of Reyneva's frantic search to find the girl from the stream, Santana closed her eyes, envisioning it down to the very last detail.

* * *

_"I don't care if it's crazy, Azar!" Reyneva shouted at her sister, standing in the center of the palace, hours later. "I felt it. She's the one. She's the one I'm meant to be bonded to, and I'm going to find her."_

_"Stop putting so much weight on the tales that mother spun for us when we were children, Neva! You know how rare it is to find your soul bond mate, and I think you're just confused, the way you always get, when you see a pretty female."_

_"I am not confused, Zar! It is her, I could feel it, the pull toward her, before I even saw what she looked like. And when I touched her, my body felt like it was blooming. I have to find her again."_

_"You know_ nothing  _about her. How do you propose we search?"_

 _"When she left, she screamed out for_ Oskari  _to follow her. It's a name I've never heard before, there cannot be all that many named Oskari around here. We search for one of that name, and it leads us to her."_

_"And if he is her betrothed?"_

_"He is not. I would know it, if he were."_

_"You sound_ insane,  _sister, if the people of this land knew what you spoke of-"_

_"If the people of this land knew that they could have another soul bonded pair at the crown, like grandmother and grandfather, they would rejoice." Reyneva countered. "Please, I know you don't believe in these things, but they are real, and I feel like this physical ache in my whole being will persist until I find her again."_

_"Fine. I'll help you, but if this proves to be a foolish endeavor, don't say you weren't warned."_

* * *

Quinn felt herself stiffen, an impending sense of dread seeping into every pore of her being, and she looked beside her. Brittany and Santana were wrapped entirely in each other, and she could see the slight tremor in Santana's body. Could it really be what Holly had said? That they were both her daughters? That Santana was her  _sister?_ It hardly seemed possible, but hearing the story, was the purpose to tell them that they were Reyneva and Azar? And Brittany, could she have been...? No, it was entirely impossible, all of it, it was a fairy tale, no truer than Prince Charming searching for Cinderella with a glass slipper.

* * *

_Despite the obvious obstacles in her quest, Reyneva did not falter, and refused to stop. The girl in the stream had taken hold on her, and with each passing day, she was only more certain that it was her bonded that she sought. While Azar tried to convince her to give up, Polerma encouraged the hunt, understanding what her younger daughter couldn't, the thing her parents had described, that pervasive emptiness that Reyneva would feel until the other half of her soul was found. Soldiers were commissioned, and soon word spread to across the kingdom in an effort to find Ozkari and his mysterious female companion._

_It was a young soldier, barely past the age of conscription that found them, sleeping in the low brush on the banks another stream, far from the palace. When he roused them from sleep, commanding them to follow his instructions at the order of Queen Reyneva, Caderyna cried for Ozkari to run, believing they were being sought for punishment, believing that the beautiful creature who'd saved her life had discovered her true identity, and would now take that same life with her own hand. Ozkari, the loyal brother, refused to leave Caderyna, and with no other choice in the natter, they were led by the young officer to their fate._

_Caderyna would have been lying, had she claimed that her body didn't hum at the thought of seeing Reyneva again. In the time that had passed, she hadn't ceased thinking about her, summoning up every memory of the brief moments they'd spent together, burning for her, if that was possible, imagining the_ what ifs.  _What if she hadn't ran? Would the Queen of Uecridis have felt the same strange tingles that had come over Caderyna? Or was it all an illusion? What if she'd told Reyneva right then and there who she was? What if she'd tried to explain to her that she had no intention of following through with the task she'd been born to complete? Would it gave changed anything? It was all Caderyna could think of, as she walked toward what she was sure was her own execution._

 _When they arrived at the palace, Caderyna grabbed Oskari's arm, she held him tightly, she squeezed an apology to him. Perhaps if she hadn't been startled in the stream, she wouldn't have encountered Reyneva, she wouldn't have revealed herself as to precisely the wrong person. Caderyna had_ no  _idea that the Queen had no idea who she truly was, or what past she carried with her, or that the twins even existed at all, she simply sought the creature that had touched her soul, simply desired to know her, to understand whether what she believed she'd felt was truth, or only a precious illusion. Together, Caderyna and Oskari were led down a long hallway, into a massive, open room, where, in the very center Reyneva sat, her mother and her sister flanking her._

_"You've found her." Reyneva exhaled, her joy radiating, seeping into Caderyna, confusing the runaway entirely. "Thank you, Surony, you will be greatly rewarded for your services."_

_"Your majesty." Caderyna bowed deeply, urging her brother to do the same, trying to save as much face as she possibly could, trying to save their lives. "We come in peace, I swear it, we mean no harm."_

_"Well I should hope not, I've gone through great troubles to find you, and I still don't even know your name."_

_"I am Caderyna, and he is my brother, Oskari. But you, you don't know who we are?" She was confused, much as Reyneva had been that day in the stream, by her anonymity._

_"Caderyna." Reyneva spoke, and Caderyna thought that the singular word from her throat was the most gorgeous sound she'd ever heard, a thought she shouldn't be having, not about the one who could, and probably would, sign her death order. "How would I know who you are, if you left without telling me your name?"_

_"This is confusing me, your majesty. Why would you seek me, if you did not know who I am?" Caderyna felt the dark eyes of the two who sat beside the Queen, Azar and Polerma, she fluid on my assume._

_"You didn't feel it? The signs of the soul bond?" The Queen sounded rejected, her once perked antennae drooping, and Caderyna felt the sadness course through her in waves. "It's possible I was mistaken, then."_

_"I don't know what a soul bond is. I'm not even sure I was born with a soul."_

_"Of course you were born with a soul." Reyneva stood from her seat, and breaking free of the grasp Azar had on her arm, approached Caderyna. It was like all else in the room dissapeared, and Caderyna felt herself purple again, her desire for the beautiful female burning hot through her entire being. "Everyone is born with one. Where are you from that you don't know such a thing?"_

_"You truly don't know who we are." Caderyna marveled, and though she knew lying could potentially save the lives of her and Oskari, she found herself so deep in wide, almond eyes, that she couldn't have, no matter what the consequence. "We are Caderyna and Oskari, twins, born in the Fadelands, and according to our people, we were born to end your life, to end all of your lives."_

"What the hell? Why wouldn't she lie?" Sam interrupted the story, aghast at the revelation. "It wasn't just Caderyna's life, it was Oskari's too!"

"She wasn't able to lie, not to Reyneva. Just listen to the story." Holly silenced Sam.

_The next thing Caderyna knew, she was waking up in a low lit room, shackled by her hands and ankles to the floor. Try as she might, she couldn't escape the cuffs, and she searched around frantically, looking for any sign of her brother. Instead, she saw, sitting quietly in the corner, another pair of familiar eyes, watching her, waiting, perhaps, for her to come to her senses again._

_"Why are you here? Why am I still alive?" Caderyna asked, her voice weakened._

_"Two of my guards shot you and the other with tranquilizers before I could hear the rest of your story, and I want to know it. I am here, because I believe that if you had truly intended to take my life, you'd have done it in the stream that day, when I was all alone, defenseless." Reyneva moved closer to her, and Caderyna startled when she felt the Queen's hand reach up, felt it almost tenderly caress the side of her head, and when she pulled it away, it was coated in thick silver blood. "Tell me, Caderyna, am I wrong in my thinking?"_

_"You aren't. I have no desire to kill you, to kill_ any  _of you, nor does my brother. Is he-?"_

_"He is still alive. We don't kill here, even an attempt on my life wouldn't have taken yours. Imprisonment, yes, but death? We are not barbaric."_

_"My people, they're quite the opposite."_

_"So I've heard in tales, and now I see first hand." Reyneva sighed, eyes darting over Caderyna's features, a tug at her insides omnipresent. "Why do they wish for you to kill me? What reason have they given you to justify that? "_

_"They...they never did. They have no souls, it's not a myth. I've seen things, I've seen too many things." Caderyna shuddered._

_"And you, Caderyna, you said you didn't think you had a soul. Do you still think that's true?"_

_"I'm not sure what is happening, your majesty. If I may be frank?" She asked, and the queen nodded. "I knew I was different, knew both Oskari and I were different, but I didn't know what it_ meant  _to have a soul. Then I met you, that day, and I understood, somewhere inside of me there was_ something _. I think now that I_ do  _have one, and I only know such a thing because I can feel yours reaching out for mine."_

_"You feel it too." Reyneva marveled, tentatively reaching out to stroke drooping antennae, making Caderyna release an embarrassing purr. "I'm going to un-cuff you now."_

_Waving a device over the shackles, Reyneva freed Caderyna from her binds. Caderyna, who hadn't realized how long she'd been like that, hadn't expected that her legs wouldn't support her fully, and she wobbled, only steadying when Reyneva's hands pressed into the sides of her slim torso. At the contact, a white hot fire burned within both women, and Caderyna gasped for air, losing even more has she turned her fearful eyes up to look at the queen._

_"My mother warned me of this when I told her about you. It's a little terrifying." She spoke softly, the side of her head pressed to Caderyna's._

_"What_ is  _this?"_

 _"I will explain it all, if you'll hear me. My sister, she thinks I'm crazy, she thinks this is a mind trick on your part, and she thinks I'm falling right into your trap." Reyneva confessed, struggling to get her own bearings, with so much of Caderyna's smooth skin touching hers, making her eyes ooze and her skin purple. "But my grandparents, they were soul bonded mates, the perfect halves of a whole. It's a rare thing, they say, but if one finds their missing half, they cannot resist the bind, and these_ feelings,  _they don't ever leave."_

 _"I don't...I can't understand what this means." Caderyna tried to wrap her mind around all of what was being said, but it was as foreign to her as the rainbow stars in the morning sky. "I've barely come to understand that I have a soul, now you're telling me that I have a soul_ mate.  _That_ you  _are my soul mate?"_

_"Soulmate." Reyneva laughed, that beautiful music making Caderyna shiver. "I've never heard it called that, but it makes sense, the true mate of your soul. I believe it's true, that you are mine."_

_"Okay. I don't know what that means."_

_"It means nothing you don't want it to mean." The Queen promised, placing her hand on top of Caderyna's. "I ask you, no, I beg you, to give me a chance, to see what comes of this, but I will not force it upon you. I give you your freedom, either way, for you and your brother, because I know you will not harm anyone here, but I hope, maybe, that you would stay and learn me, maybe see if within our bond, we could fall in love."_

_"I don't know what it means to love another, though." Caderyna's face fell, wanting nothing more than to know the beautiful being before her, wanting nothing more than to see what this_ falling in love _was, but she felt unworthy, felt like she'd been raised so far from society, that the queen could do better, even if they were_ soulmates.  _"I don't know how to answer you."_

_"You can have as much time as you like to think it through. I'll find a place for you, and for Oskari too, within the palace, or away from the palace, if that's better, whatever it is that you need, it is yours."_

_"You are too good to me. I've given you nothing, and you're not only offering me my freedom, but a home?"_

_"These are just_ things,  _really, Caderyna. I give my soul to you, and I hope someday my heart, nothing else matters quite as much."_

_"I think that...I think I would like to stay within the palace, I think that I feel safer, knowing you are close by."_

_"Then I will have a section of rooms prepared for you and your brother." Reyneva gave her word. "May I ask something of you?"_

_"Anything, your highness."_

_"Maybe two things, then." Caderyna shivered again at the laugh, and felt the invisible ties to the Queen tighten, felt the feelings she couldn't quite understand surge. "I ask you please, call me Reyneva, or Neva, even, if you like. And I ask you, if you would walk with me in the morning, if we could possibly learn about each other, away from those who tend to pry in my business."_

_"Okay, your- okay, Reyneva." Caderyna spoke, tripping a bit on the informality._

_"I don't think my name has ever sounded more beautiful, than coming from within you." Reyneva marveled, and Caderyna was so purple, she was nearly black, having had an identical thought earlier. "Don't burn at my words, because they are very true. I'll leave you now, to see your brother, to be settled, but I'll see you when morning comes. Goodnight."_

_Reyneva struggled to leave the room, wanting nothing more than to press her open mouth to the crown of Caderyna's head, to whisper secrets there, to learn all there was to know about the one she'd finally found. But she knew she couldn't, knew that she had her mother and Azar to deal with, and could feel Caderyna's itching desire to see her brother, to know for sure he was safe, after they'd been separated and temporarily imprisoned. She'd see her in the morning, and though decisions were still to be made by the one who would complete her, Reyneva could feel within the cartilage in her body what that decision would be, a feeling that made every bit of her hum with joy and excitement._

* * *

Santana was crying, hot silent tears as she listened to the story, tears that she couldn't quite place. She felt the truth to it all in her bones, and she held Brittany's arms tighter around her, feeling as if that reeling intensity might sweep her from her feet. Brittany, for her part, was trying to keep it together as best as she could, having never,  _ever_ in her wildest dreams even imagined that their short search for the fourth alien would have led them to this place.  _Star-crossed lovers,_ she thought, picturing it written on the board in tenth grade English, though she wasn't sure why that thought came to her mind when Holly hadn't spoken it. Star-crossed lovers never ended well though, and she had a terrible feeling that Caderyna and Reyneva were just that, and whatever it is that had happened between them was what brought them all to the very place they stood.

"Why would she trust Caderyna, without knowing for sure that she wouldn't kill her? She didn't even know her." Mercedes spoke for the first time, and Holly flicked her eyes quickly over to Santana and Brittany, before looking back to Mercedes.

"The mind doesn't always know best who to trust. The heart is usually better at that. Reyneva didn't need proof that Caderyna wouldn't kill her, because she understood soul bonding. This is the thing, it is  _impossible_ for them to hurt one another, they physically feel each other's pain, though dulled to a degree. To kill the other is to kill oneself."

* * *

 _There was a loud argument that night, between Reyneva and Azar. Azar, was certain that they'd just led the proverbial cat to the cream, as humans say. Reyneva, though she never invoked her title, reminded her sister who the crown belonged to, who had the final say in all decisions. She didn't care what Azar thought, Caderyna and Oskari were staying, and whoever didn't like it could leave. It got ugly, uglier than things had ever been between them, and had Polerma not come in when she had and separated her grown daughters, things would have gotten physical between them. In the aftermath, Azar locked herself away, screaming that she hoped she never had to say_ I told you so,  _but Reyneva just ignored her, and went humming about, her body content to know that Caderyna was close by, and even more content to feel her comfort there._

_When morning came on the first full day of Caderyna's residence at the palace, she was a nervous wreck, trying to get herself together for her walk with Reyneva, trying to dress herself properly, and feeling like no matter what she was doing, she was falling short. She finally settled, not wanting to make the Queen wait, and as soon as she was in the other's presence, she felt herself relax, and they fell into an easy rhythm, walking side by side. Caderyna didn't speak much at first, but she listened intently, absorbing Reyneva's tales of childhood, of her relationship with her mother and her sister, about the loss of her father, and Caderyna's antennae were perked with interest, making Reyneva smile._

_It continued like that for some time, their meetings each morning, and eventually, Caderyna accepted the repeated invitations for she and Oskari to dine with the queen and her family. During the first of those dinner's, Azar was sullen, glaring at the one her sister felt so connected to. But as time went on, as the bond between the Reyneva and her future mate grew, and Caderyna came into her own, even Azar couldn't help but warm up to her, going as far as entertaining Oskari, at her sister's request, so that he too felt comfortable with life at the palace. After several weeks of the developing friendship between Caderyna and Reyneva, and the intensification of their undercurrent connection, they were alone together near the place where they first met. Sitting the bank, their smallest fingers twisted together, a development had come earlier, when Reyneva wanted so badly to touch Caderyna, but feared startling her, the queen watched Caderyna as she stared out over the water, smiling in that way she did sometimes, like she was in a far off world._

_"What are you thinking about, Cady?" She asked, calling her by the nickname she'd given her in their first days together._

_"I think I'd like to stay.'"Caderyna turned a bit, so she was facing Reyneva, her face turning purple again, as she made her shy request. "For always, I mean, if that's still alright with you. I think I like it here a lot, and I'm sure I like you even more."_

_"Caderyna." It was the Queen's turn to color, forgetting to stop herself from bringing her hand up to the crown of Caderyna's head, affectionately brushing the shining skin there. "I'd love nothing more than for you to stay."_

_"Nothing more? Not even if I were to kiss you now?" She asked, her mouth twisting wryly._

_"Well, I definitely wouldn't object to that." Reyneva's antennae twitched in anticipation of their first kiss, and slowly, carefully, Caderyna leaned into her, opening her mouth and bringing it to Reyneva's_

_It was tentative and careful, that kiss, on both of their parts, but as quickly as they pulled away, they'd gone back in for another, the second full of far more passion than the first. In those moments, their physical relationship was awakened, and when they returned back to the palace after, it was apparent to everyone, especially to Polerma, who was keen at spotting their conjoined aura, the sudden change in both of them. It wasn't long after that Caderyna moved from her own section of the palace into the queen's bed, and though Azar teased her sister mercilessly about her perpetual need to touch her lover, despite the amount of time they spent coupling, she was truly happy to see the Reyneva as happy and complete as she was._

_In only a half a year's time from that point, Reyneva asked Caderyna to be joined with her, an offer that Caderyna readily accepted. Early one morning, accompanied only by Oskari, Azar and Polerma, they the two stood together on the bank of the stream, committing to each other until the end of eternity. Symbolic of their commitment, and also for the protection of both their eternal bond and physical body, they clasped chains around each other's necks. They were chains that could be touched by no one else, chains that held the yellow light of the other's soul in a heavy stone medallion that fell to rest in the center of their chests._

* * *

"Brittany." Santana breathed, crying, as her fingers closed around the yellow stone, "I don't. I...I can't understand."

"You will, very soon." Holly promised. "But it is at this point, where the story begins to darken."

* * *

_The first few years after Reyneva and Caderyna's joining were uneventful. They existed in domestic bliss, and the Uecridians rejoiced in their joint queenship. Of course, the military kept a watchful eye of the Fadelands, knowing that word had reached back of Caderyna's new position, and knowing that they were apt to try something. It was quiet there though, and though Caderyna stirred about it often, Reyneva would kiss her, would pull her close to her, or would close her hand around the necklace that adorned her mate, and promise her they were safe, especially when they had each other. Eventually, even Caderyna had to let her guard down, and knowing that Oskari had chosen to take part in the watching made her feel significantly safer. It was around that time that talk turned among the queens to completing their perfect union, by bringing a child into their world. Unlike on Earth, the fact that they were two women had no bearing on their ability to have a child that was genetically both of theirs, using the technological advances at their disposal, and before long, Reyneva was pregnant with their first._

_Gestation tends to be difficult for Uecridian woman, most of their life force devoted entirely to the unborn, and lasting nearly twice as long as a human pregnancy. From the very beginning of hers, Reyneva wanted to curl up and sleep a lot, and Caderyna was more than happy to oblige her partner's need for closeness, more often than not, holding her tightly, covering her body entirely, rubbing down her skin that turned scaly, and kissing her when her mouth was dry, offering as much of_ her  _life force as she could to her mate. Of course, there was still the duties of their position of power that needed to be done, and late in her pregnancy, when Reyneva could hardly move from their bed, Caderyna had taken them over almost entirely._

_It was weakness that Caderyna and Oskari's people were searching for in the royal family, and with Reyneva laid up, they'd found it simpler than they'd expected. Because a child of Caderyna's was growing inside of her, their usual connection was amplified, with Reyneva feeling nearly every emotion that passed through her lover's body. One day, with only three months to go before the baby would come, Caderyna had to travel to meet with engineers on a new program they were trialling. She was anxious about going, but Reyneva promised her over and over again that she'd be alright, before pressing her head to her swollen abdomen and making her listen to the strong pulse of their unborn child. With kisses and promises that she'd return as soon as possible, Caderyna left. For the entire day, Reyneva felt her anxiety, as if it were coursing through her own body, and it unsettled her. Shrugging off the company of her mother and her sister, wanting to go sit on their stream bank and calm herself, hoping she could telepathically pass that on to Caderyna as well, Reyneva left the palace, and ended up falling asleep, curled on her side._

* * *

"Oh, fuck." Quinn hissed, unwanted tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, the familiarity of the story terrifying her. "Why would she  _leave?_ You just said she could hardly get out of bed."

"She always roamed about freely, there was never any kind of problem. There were always guards about, and she felt she had nothing to worry about."

Neither Santana, nor Brittany could speak, they both had an inclination of where the tale was headed, and Santana had all but curled up into Brittany's body, holding on for dear life.

* * *

_From here, the story gets fuzzy, the accounts very unreliable. One story says that Reyneva was taken in her sleep, and didn't wake until she was far from her home, from her family. The other, the one I tend to believe over the first, was that someone appeared to Reyneva on the bank, and told her that Caderyna had been kidnapped on her journey, and was taken back to the Fadelands. Having felt the disquietude of her soulmate that day, Reyneva would have been inclined to believe it was true, and she wouldn't have wasted a second, even in her most vulnerable state, to get to Caderyna._

_Whatever it was that brought her away, when Caderyna came home and found Reyneva gone, she went into a full fledged panic, searching every possible place nearby. As she felt Reyneva's fear quicken inside of her, Caderyna came to accept the worst, and she quickly prepared herself to go, calling for Oskari and all of the best soldiers of their military to accompany her. They weren't even out the door when Caderyna collapsed, shrieking like no one had ever heard her do before. It was Polerma who went to her, Polerma who knew what was happening, and though she was Reyneva's mother, she put aside every ounce of fear that rose inside her to care for Caderyna._

_"No! No! No!" She screeched, her entire body going cold as she tried to fight off the attendants who'd tried to lift her to bed, at Polerma's order. "Help me get to her! Help me!"_

_"Caderyna. Caderyna. It's too-"_

_"Don't you say it, Polerma!" Caderyna sobbed, her chest, where the pendant laid, glowing sickly orange, and dark sweat pouring off of her. "It's not! It's not! This feeling is wrong. She's just alone and scared, and the...the baby. We need to get to her!"_

_"Mother, what's happening?" Azar ran into the foyer, returning from her own day out, and finding Caderyna thrashing about on the floor, trying to regain her footing. "What is wrong with Caderyna? Where is Neva?"_

_"Help me! Help me, Azar! I need to find her!"_

_"Mother." Azar repeated, voice calm,_ too  _calm, while she tried to hold her emotion inside. "Where is she?"_

_"They took her. They took her, my Azar. They took her, and they've killed her."_

_"You!" Azar roared, looking at the flailing creature before her, the one who had just lost her other half, who had lost part of herself, and who writhed in pain, unwilling to accept the truth that she felt at her very core, and she_ seethed.  _"I learned to trust you, and now my sister is dead."_

_"Azar! This is not her fault!" Polerma shouted, trying to keep her own pain at bay over losing a child, continuously trying to calm Caderyna down, though she knew it was impossible. "Leave her be!"_

_"I will sooner leave than leave her be! Would you lose two daughters tonight?" She challenged._

_"Either way, I lose two." Polerma cradled Caderyna in her arms, trying to stop what seeped out of her body, draining her already fragile life. "You make your choice, my daughter, because I will not choose between you and your sister's mate."_

_"Please, please, Polerma!" Caderyna continued to beg. "She needs me, and_ I  _need her, help me get to her!"_

 _"What she_ needed,  _was for you to have stayed far, far away from her." Azar knelt down so she was face to face with Caderyna, who had tugged away from Polerma, and was rocking back and forth. "Cry all you want, it was_ your _presence here that got her killed. Don't you ever forget that."_

_"You know that isn't true, Azar! You heard Caderyna's story when she came, they wanted us dead long before she was here! She cannot fight you back, the life is draining out of her before our very eyes."_

_"And you should let it." Azar stood, and without another word, turned and walked out of the palace._

_It wasn't over that night, it wasn't over in the days that followed. Azar didn't return, not until Oskari dragged her back, hands burned and the broken pendant of Reyneva wrapped in cloth in his pouch, and sickly grey blood covering his clothes. He'd gone back to his homeland, he_ had  _to, had to see, on his sister's behalf, that Reyneva was truly gone. Though he'd wanted to bring back the body of the late queen, let Caderyna see her lover once more, let them properly entomb her, it was too late. All that was left in the small holding cell, the cell he himself had been put in before, for his lack of ability, was the necklace that had been meant to protect the women who wore them, the necklace that had been brutally torn from Reyneva's throat, probably killing the one who had been assigned the task of it, and blood, silver blood everywhere. In a blind rage, for the first time in his life, Oskari felt the ability to kill rise up within him, the ability born of the murder of the one his sister loved, the one who had taken them both in and accepted them as family, and he used that ability to kill the four who attempted to accost him._

_With Azar reluctantly at his side, after he had pleaded with her to return to the relative safety of her home, Oskari returned to the palace, and he found the place in a terrible state. Caderyna was still weakened in bed, with Polerma, the previous day, having carried her off the waterfall in the stream where she'd met Reyneva, the waterfall where she'd intended to take her own life, because the physical pain was too excruciating to carry on. When Oskari offered up the pendant to his sister, she did nothing but cradle against her own and sob, sending him from the room, as she drowned in her own grief._

* * *

"Stop. Please, please stop." Santana begged, Brittany's arms around her the only thing keeping her from sinking to her knees. "I can't...I can't hear anymore. I can't hear anymore, because I know you're going to tell me that I was Reyneva and Brittany was, or  _is,_ Caderyna, and I  _can't_ hear that. It's enough that I can  _feel_ it."

"Can we have a minute?" Brittany asked, and even Quinn, with tears in her eyes, nodded her affirmation as Brittany led Santana away from the others, holding her tightly in her arms and pressing soft kisses to her hairline.

"I don't need her to say it, I know that it's true." Santana whimpered into Brittany's chest, feeling entirely confused and helpless as she clutched the glowing stone on her neck. "The necklace..."

"I know. I know, Santana. I know, and I don't know what to say."

"I wish that I never knew this. Who even am I? Am I Reyneva, Queen of Uecridis? Am I Santana Lopez? Am I something in between? This is  _fucked up,_ and I feel like I'm going to-" Santana pulled away quickly, before she could finish the thought, and retched, emptying the contents of her stomach into the desert sand. Brittany moved quickly, trying to gather up her hair, and to hold her up, but before she could even process, Santana had dropped down to her knees, burying her face in her hands,

"It's okay, it's okay." Brittany cooed into Santana's ear, not even knowing what else to do. "I'm here, I've got you. If you don't want to hear anymore-"

"But I  _need_ to. I need to know why I'm here, why  _you_ are here, how the  _hell_ you found me again. Just, I need a minute. Can you give me that?"

"Yeah, of course."

Aching, Brittany helped Santana back to her feet, and then stepped away. She moved back toward the others, but never took her eyes off Santana, as she paced, she ranted, she tore at her hair. Holly watched her too, and when Brittany finally looked to the other alien, all the woman did was give a simple nod, confirming what they all already knew to be true.

"How?" Quinn gasped, the air stolen from her chest in shock. "How are we here?"

"She needs to hear it too. I promise, once the girl has calmed herself, I'll tell you all that you want to know."

They waited, entirely in silence, as Santana's minute turned into five, and then ten. Just as Quinn was beginning to consider going to speak with her herself, the swollen eyed girl turned back around, and dragged her feet toward them, resuming her position beside Brittany.

"Go ahead." She said simply, and tentatively, Brittany offered her hand, a hand that Santana slowly took, tangling their fingers and gripping hard.

* * *

_It was only a matter of time, they all knew that, before the rebels came for the rest of them. Oskari, fortified by his newfound combat abilities, wanted to fight, Azar was with him on that, she wanted them to all pay the price for the murder of her sister, but Polerma was concerned about the feasibility of that plan. They'd grown in numbers and strength, the faded ones, a new group of children coming of age to fight, with them ruthless and unwavering, and with the royal family and the kingdom in mourning. Polerma was convinced that they would all end up dead anyway. Caderyna was incapable of making decisions, decrying the role of queen, since there were no children to take over for Reyneva. She'd never asked for it, she'd only wanted to love Reyneva, and with her gone, the title was empty, and she passed all decision making to Polerma. Fearful, Polerma urged the citizens of her planet to evacuate, to seek shelter on other planets, to leave Uecridis for good, and trusting her, most of them did._

_There was small scale fighting, trying to hold off the rebels, but because Polerma had been so concerned with the safety of her people, there were very few left to fight, and the faded ones grew closer and closer to taking the throne, the throne that meant next to nothing with no citizens below it. In a secret meeting, Polerma urged her daughter and Oskari to begin making plans for them to leave their home as well, and they quickly agreed, attempting to decide what was the best way possible to leave the planet. The faded ones weren't stupid, Oskari knew, and he feared that even leaving was not an option for their safety. They would want them all dead, they would want the guarantee of their eternal rule, and after discussing this with Azar, and allowing her to help him formulate a plan, they asked Polerma to appeal to Caderyna, who was still secluded in bed._

_"Take Oskari and Azar and run. Let them finish me off, they've already killed half of me." Caderyna declared listlessly. "They can't take much more away."_

_"Caderyna, there's a way we can all get out, I won't leave you here to die."_

_"And I won't leave the place I last saw her. What if she's not truly dead? What if she comes back to me, comes back with our child, and I'm_ gone?  _What would she think then?"_

 _"She is_ dead.  _She's not coming back." Polerma shook Caderyna. "I understand that you're in terrible pain, but I will not leave you here, and neither will your brother. If you refuse to leave, you put both of us in danger too."_

_"But the light, her light has not gone out." Caderyna held up the broken chain, revealing the dim yellow light that still emanated. "Doesn't that mean she isn't dead?"_

_"It means that her_ soul  _is not dead. Cady, have you been listening to me at all? I've been trying to make you hear this for weeks." She sighed, and the way Caderyna screwed up her mouth told Polerma that she had not been listening at all. "As long as her soul exists, you'll be able to find her, someday, wherever you are. We'll use her stone to guide us to where she'll be. Please, it's the only way."_

* * *

"So then what happened?" Sam asked, when Holly paused to watch the reactions of each of them, particularly Santana.

"There is technology on Uecridis, or there  _was,_ I suppose, beyond the wildest dreams of anyone on Earth. It was Azar who came up with the plan, they would leave their bodies behind and combine their essence with human genetic material. As far as it would appear, they would be dead. The three of them, Caderyna, Oskari and Azar would go through a secondary gestation, while Polerma, too old for the rebels to care about, along with her most trusted guard, would be their guardians, would keep them safe until it came time for their rebirth."

"And Reyneva?" Mercedes asked.

"Like Polerma told Caderyna, like  _I_ told Caderyna, if you hadn't figured that out yet, Reyneva's soul found a new body, close to the place where she lie in waiting. The dozens of human years they would be separated meant nothing, because once they found each other again, they would be whole."

"So you're..." Mercedes looked around at the stunned aliens, at her quietly weeping best friend. "And Santana..."

"For all intents and purposes,  _Santana,_ is entirely human, but yes, her soul is the same as Reyneva's, the stone confirms it."

"So Santana is...she's my  _sister?"_ Quinn asked, and Santana suddenly snapped.

" _Reyneva_  is Azar's sister. This...I just...I don't..."

"Honey." Brittany breathed into her ear, trying to calm her, but Santana violently shook her head.

"All of this, it's just too much. Everything I've ever known, except for Brittany, is a lie."

"It's not a lie,  _Santana."_ Holly purposely used her human name, though she couldn't help but smile to herself just slightly, seeing a bit of the spirit of Reyneva in her, and wishing she could take her into her arms again. "Your human life, it's all real. It's just that you've lived before."

"Yeah, I lived before and got  _murdered._ Fantastic. And you've just been out there knowing all this." Santana pointed her finger accusingly at Holly. "Why didn't you find them? Why didn't you tell them all this sooner? They had to search for you? This is bullshit. Maybe it's all a lie."

"I have to agree with her." Quinn didn't want to, as awful as it all was, she did want it to be real, she wanted a mother, she wanted a sister, she wanted something that mattered to her in the universe. "You brought us here, and your guard, where is he?"

" _He_ was captured, tortured,  _killed,_ he's the one you hear about, when people tell tales of the forty-seven crash, the one they did experiments on. And they would have done the same to the rest of us, would have had us meet the same fate we'd tried to escape, if I didn't act quickly." Holly's eyes turned dark,  _terrified,_ Brittany realized almost immediately. "I had to move you to safety and leave you behind quickly, because I couldn't risk it. And even when you were born again, I couldn't get close, not when you were so young in your hybrid form, not when meeting you might raise a red flag that could cost you your lives. I've been watching you for years, making sure you were okay, but I couldn't approach you until you were ready."

"Why don't we remember any of this?" Sam asked, though Brittany was slightly distracted, feeling like Santana was about three seconds from rocking back and forth, her breathing ragged and her palms sweaty, trying to handle the deluge of information that had been poured upon them, information that changed  _everything._

"It was the crash that changed our plans entirely. Because your new forms weren't fully developed, your memories were deep inside still. Had things gone the way they had been planned, you would have come out of your pods, as you did, you would have looked six years old, but you would have been essentially the same as what you'd left behind. But most of your memories never resurfaced, and now you are decidedly more  _human_ than we'd ever expected."

"And that means...?"

"It means you blend in more in this society than we had ever imagined possible, you blend in far better than  _me._ It was an unexpected benefit of a poor judgement call on the part of Yiofre."

"This is so insane. This is a bad science fiction movie. This isn't real. I'm going to wake up soon." Santana muttered under her breath, pinching herself a little. Brittany's heart broke, watching her struggle. She had always known she was different, but Santana, she was a small town girl who'd wanted something out of the ordinary, and had gotten more than she'd ever bargained for.

"I have...I have so many questions, and I don't even know where to start." Quinn finally spoke again, in awe of it all.

"Are you okay?" Brittany whispered in Santana's ear, and she simply shrugged. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry about there, and here, and I'm just sorry."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about. It just...it just  _is,_ I guess. On this planet, I'm the daughter of a diner owner, on that planet, it was an assassinated queen. Not every day you find  _that_ out." Santana tried to joke, but it came out as more of a strangled sob, a sob that earned her concerned looks from everyone else in the circle.

"Where do we go from here?" Sam asked, bringing his hand to his head,

"There's nowhere to go for us, nowhere but here."

"I didn't mean it literally. I meant, how to we handle this information?"

"You all need time to process. I've told you a lot,"

"But-" Quinn began, and was immediately cut off by Brittany's glare. She needed to get her girlfriend home, she looked like she might burst, and her knees were obviously still weak, and in all honesty, _Brittany_ needed time to deal with  _her_ emotions on the matter. She may not remember it, but she'd left her home planet, in a state of utter despair, the only hope keeping her alive being that the soulbond connection she had with her mate might actually work, and there she was, nearly human, with her other half back in her arms.

"Thank you." Santana spoke so only Brittany could hear.

"I will work on getting a placement at West Roswell, then I'm a little more accessible. I want to know you all again, my long lost  _family,_ but this is our home now, and I won't put us in jeopardy." Holly was matter-of-fact, though she looked at Quinn, knowing it would be hardest for her, her Azar, the one who had missed her so deeply without even remembering who she was. "You need to go now, you need to keep from drawing attention, but we'll meet again soon."

They watched as Holly turned and seemed to disappear off in the distance without so much as a goodbye. Quinn watched wistfully, and Brittany, though occupied with Santana, kept one eye on her, knowing that now that Holly had revealed herself, Quinn wouldn't be able to stay away, no matter the cost, and though Brittany was concerned, she couldn't even blame her. The entire thing was confusing, more to take in than any of them could imagine, and worried for Santana, Mercedes gently pulled her to the side, while Brittany spoke quickly to Quinn and Sam.

"Are you alright?" She asked, furrowing her brow as Santana averted her eyes and kicked at a dusty stone on the ground.

"I don't know, 'Ce, I really,  _really_ don't even know. I just want to go home right now and sleep, honestly."

"Okay. If there's anything you need though..,"

"I know. I'll call. Can you just...?" Santana gestured over to Quinn and Sam, and Mercedes nodded, understanding that she wanted Brittany to take her home,  _alone,_ and she didn't want to have to worry about the others.

* * *

It was silent on the ride back to Roswell, Brittany staring out at the desert road ahead of her, and Santana looking out the passenger side window, watching the vast expanse of  _nothing_ that they passed. Brittany could feel the rising anxiety of the other girl, her  _soulmate,_ in the words of Caderyna (she couldn't yet reconcile that they were one in the same), and not a soulmate, in the way people are quick to say. They were inevitable, Caderyna and Reyneva, she and Santana, brought together by some invisible force, bonded, physically, emotionally, everything, and it pained Brittany to feel the panic that radiated in waves from her girlfriend as she clutched the glowing stone and sighed deeply. When they pulled up in the alley where they'd taken to hiding Brittany's car while Santana got out, Santana didn't move, not for a long while, and she still didn't speak, she just stayed, feeling like it had been torn to shreds.

"Stay with me?" Her request was soft, so soft that had Brittany not been so in tune to every fiber of Santana's being, then she wouldn't have heard it.

"Always." Brittany promised, causing Santana to let out a gasp at just how true that singular word was. "I'll text Sam to get the car, and I'll meet you upstairs, okay?"

"Yeah. Upstairs. Right." She looked dazed, and she leaned over, pressing a kiss to the corner of Brittany's mouth. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

By the time Santana  _somehow_ managed to get through talking to her father about school, about when she was going back to cheerleading practice, about  _so_ many things that just didn't seem to matter in the slightest to her any longer, Brittany was already up in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting. Her stormy eyes darted up, the moment the door opened, and looking in Santana's dark ones, she could feel her trying to emotionally distance herself, feel her trying and miserably failing, because all either of them wanted, or really,  _needed,_  was to cling to the other.

"It's not just me, right? This is totally fucked up?" Santana kicked off her sneakers and sat down on the bed, instinctively curling into Brittany's side, letting Brittany stroke her hair, letting Brittany attempt to calm her down, even though it was a futile effort.

"Santana. It's  _beyond_ fucked up."

"We never had a choice, you and I. Part of it sounds incredibly romantic, the other part, I don't even know..."

"I  _love_ you, Santana. I loved you when I thought I wasn't supposed to, because we were different. I love you, because you are  _you,_ because you're  _Santana._ I love the way you crinkle up your forehead when you're thinking really hard in class, I love the way you put on this huge smile in the diner, and then roll your eyes the moment you turn away from someone who is pissing you off. I love the way you tuck your head under my chin, just like this, like you're letting me protect you. I love the way you're fierce and brave and loyal. I love so many things about you that those don't even begin to scratch the surface. I love you for  _so many_ reasons that have  _nothing_ to do with Caderyna and Reyneva, with soulbonding, with destiny."

"Brittany." Santana had tears streaming down her face, and Brittany gently wiped them away as they fell. "I love you too, you know that I do. I'm just so confused. I'm sorry, this was a huge deal for you, meeting Holly, finding out  _why_ you're here, and I'm making this all about me. I'm just  _freaking out,_ that feeling like I'm going to throw up again hasn't gone away, and my mind is so noisy that I can't even hear my own thoughts."

"I know. Trust me, I know. I feel the same way."

"What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know. I thought meeting the fourth alien would give us all the answers, now all it's done is make everything even more of a mess. What do  _you_ want to do?"

"Right now? Right now, I want to sleep, and I want you to hold me tight, because I'm so scared that I'm going to run."

"Okay. Alright." Brittany released a shuddering breath as ice cold fear pricked her very being, ice cold fear at Santana running, at losing  _her,_ not her soul, but  _her,_ the human girl that  _her_ human self loved beyond anything else. "I can do that."

They were silent for a long while, having lied on top of the bed, still wearing their jeans. Brittany was certain Santana had fallen asleep, but she was wide awake, staring at a speck on the ceiling and wishing she found turn off her mind. Just as she decided to try to close her eyes, she felt Santana stir again, and she felt dark eyes burning into her.

"Brittany." She whispered her voice cracking in fear. "You see the parallels, don't you? Reyneva saved Caderyna, Azar warned her not to get involved with an outsider, someone from the same group that was a threat to them..."

"Yeah, I do." Brittany sighed softly, cradling Santana closer, understanding what she was getting at.

"Of everything, of all the fucked up that today was, what I'm afraid of the most, is the end of that story, and of the way that somehow, history always,  _always_  seems to repeat itself."

 


	13. Control

All through that first night, Brittany didn't sleep, she  _couldn't_ sleep. This deep, inner protective part of herself (probably Caderyna, she thought, still having trouble reconciling that they were one and the same) needed to watch Santana, needed to make sure she was okay. While the stone glowed bright on her neck, the tortured girl slept fitfully, shifting between holding Brittany so close they'd nearly become one being, and rolling away violently, curling into a self-preseved little ball. Alternating between crying out brokenly in her nightmares, and having a soft, contented smile on her face. Brittany felt powerless, she knew her girlfriend, her love, her  _soulbonded mate_ needed time to process,  _she_ needed time to process herself, but it was hard, seeing the small human move so feverishly. It ached Brittany inside, it ached her to feel Santana's pain, it ached her for her own, for the deep, unshakable agony of the tragedy of Reyneva and Caderyna. So she did all she could to make Santana feel safe, to not feel as if their very existence hung in the balance, simply because their great love had once resulted in death, in the fall of an entire kingdom. It was a different life, a different world, a different story, she wanted to tell Santana, but she couldn't, Santana would hear none of it, even in sleep, so instead, Brittany just held her, kissed her, loved her as hard as she could, and hoped that it was enough to get them through.

When the first streaks of pink painted the morning sky, Brittany knew she had to go. She knew Santana's alarm would go off soon, knew that Maribel Lopez would rap on the door soon after, making sure she didn't shut it off, knew that her  _own_ mother would be expecting her with Sam at the breakfast table, and knew that she really,  _really_ needed to talk to her brother (and Quinn too) about what had transpired the previous day. Slowly, carefully, Brittany untwined herself from the vice grip of Santana's arms, settling her back on the pile of pillows beneath. She couldn't help but stare at her before climbing from bed, the dark hair across her face and skin, warm from sleep, and glowing in yellow light, painting her with the greatest beauty. First bringing Santana's hand to her lips, she kissed there, promising to protect her, before leaning over Santana's drawn mouth, brushing away the dark shock of hair that fell across her face, and burning an even greater promise.

"I love you." She whispered into the kiss. "I love  _you,_ Santana Lopez."

Brittany stood from the bed, tears she couldn't fully comprehend running down her face, and she climbed out the window. What she didn't see was Santana, eyes breaking open, tears matching, tears of confusion, of frustration, of dread.

"I love you too, Brittany." She spoke to the empty room. "More than anything."

* * *

Brittany made it home in record time, sprinting most of the way, because she had left far later than she should have. When she climbed in her window, she heard Sam already awake, doing push-ups in his room, she assumed. She wanted a shower, she wanted to wash the day and night off of her, wanted to start over, hopefully with some kind of grasp on what was going on. Unfortunately, the shower did little to change anything, and while she sat towel drying her wet hair, feeling so exhausted from the lack of sleep, she heard the news on downstairs, and Sam talking to their mother, smelled bacon cooking in the kitchen. It was hard to believe that everything was still happening as usual, that earth still turned the way it was supposed to, after hearing the news that rocked the world of those who meant the most to her.

"Brittany, sweetheart! Time for breakfast!" Her mother called. "If you don't hurry, Sammy may not save you any pancakes!"

 _Pancakes._  Food. Coffee. Brittany could handle that, she thought, and shaking the images of Santana's pained face, and images, scarier still, of silver blood and a swollen, lifeless corpse, she made her way down the stairs to the table. While she ate, mistakenly dumping more hot sauce than ever on her food, and causing Evan Pierce to joke, as always, that he ought to buy stock in it, Brittany avoided looking at Sam. The two of them simply answered the questions their parents had about if they'd made any kind of decisions about whether or not they'd be applying to college, about the camping trip, about maybe having a family weekend at the end of the month. They both responded appropriately, but Brittany noticed that her brother's laugh sounded as hollow as hers felt, and clearing their plates, they nearly ran out the door.

"How are you?" Sam asked cautiously, the instant Brittany closed the passenger side door of the car.

"I have no idea. What about you?"

"Same. How is  _she?"_

"Not good. Not good at all." Brittany confessed, voice cracking. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, not until they passed the diner, saw Santana, shoulders slumped, getting into Mercedes' car. Brittany's heart quickened, and their eyes met, sharing a small, tentative smile. "For us, it's really beyond messed up, the reason we came here, my pregnant queen dead, and our planet in ruins. But for her...she's supposed to be human, Sam. She  _is_ human, except not really. Not anymore, now that she knows this, knows  _me."_

"It's not your fault, Britt."

"But isn't it? Both times, as  _me_ , and as Caderyna, I knew I should stay away from her. And both times I  _didn't._ She  _died,_ Sam. She was pregnant and happy,  _we were having a baby,_ and then she was _murdered_ , and now, who knows what kind of danger she's in. Hummel isn't the only one hunting us, and you know it."

"Yeah. I know. But were you even listening to the story? I don't really  _get_ this whole soulbonding thing, and even I got from that story that neither of you ever had a damn choice in the matter."

"Well maybe that's the worst part. Maybe that's the point of all those depressing stories they make us read in school. The greatest loves end in the greatest tragedy, or something. I didn't save Santana's life in the diner, just so she could die another way."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're about to do something really stupid?"

"I don't  _know_ what I'm going to do, Sam." Brittany shook her head violently. "I just don't know."

"Okay. Look, you're talking about old books. You know what one stuck out most to me? The story of Oeidipus. The king sent him to be killed because of that prophesy about him killing his father and sleeping with his mother. Turns out the guy doesn't kill him, he gets adopted. Good old Eddie finds out about it, thinks it's his adoptive parents he's destined to do that to, he runs away. Bam. Kills runs into his biological father, kills him, marries his widow. By  _running_ from what he was scared of, he  _made it happen._ You can't fight destiny, Britt. You were obviously meant to be with Santana. Her soul _found yours,_ on another planet, years and years later. If you're fated to die, you're going to. Leaving her, if that's what you're thinking, won't change that."

"Pretty funny that we've played sort of dumb in school all these years to stay under the radar, and not be expected to leave Roswell, and here we are, using literature as metaphors for our own life." Brittany rolled her eyes, a little bitter. "I hope that story isn't supposed to make me feel  _better_ though."

"No. It's not. It isn't a pep talk, it's a reality check. You can't cheat your fate, even those crappy  _Final Destination_ movies know that. All we can do now is fight like hell to make sure none of us die. And also, maybe tell Santana not to hang out at a stream alone and vulnerable."

"It will never not be too soon to joke about that." Brittany glared at Sam. "I'm just afraid. I'm really, really afraid."

"I know." Sam told her softly, patting her forearm. "So am I. But we won't let our guard down. We'll prepare for whatever comes. But you love her, don't let her go because you think it'll protect her."

"Okay." She nodded, looking out the window as they pulled up in front of the school. Brittany saw Quinn, standing outside the door, playing with the straps of her backpack, and she inhaled sharply. "So do you think her hating me is going to get better or worse, now that she knows  _why?"_

"She's Quinn. She's always unreadable. But for what it's worth, I think what happened back then...on Uecridis, was probably less your fault than  _anyone's._ Holly didn't say it, but you, Caderyna, probably trusted your-slash-her brother to keep the queen safe while she, you, whatever, were gone..."

"It's done, Sam." Brittany shrugged, though she felt pretty hypocritical, considering her own guilt. "We're all here now, whatever happened, we can't change it, we just have to try not to let it happen again. Let's just go to school right now, and I guess deal with everything else later."

Shouldering her backpack, Brittany got out of the car, approaching Quinn, with Sam not far behind. There were no words exchanged, they just simply fell into step, keeping their usual routine. When Brittany stopped at her locker, she felt Santana's presence nearby, and she blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to get her overflow of emotions under control. Slowly, she turned around, heart throbbing, as she took in her girlfriend, sunglasses covering swollen eyes, hair pulled back in a messy bun, shoulders slumped, and her overall appearance sort of disheveled. Mercedes looked to Brittany, a silent, desperate plea for her to do something. But Brittany knew she couldn't, knew that even if she were to cross the hallway, to take Santana into her arms, promise her it would be okay, kiss her lips, run her thumbs beneath her eyes and heal the dark circles she knew had formed there during the fitful night of sleep, it wouldn't do anything. Actions, words, neither would help. The only thing that Santana needed was  _time,_ Brittany knew it, instinctively, as she watched her lover turn slowly, give her a tentative, watery smile. And time she would give her. Brittany would give her the world, the universe, really, if she asked for it, so time, that silent, simple request, Brittany could give her.

Santana liked control,  _craved_ control, she always had. It had been something she'd inherited from her father, she'd always assumed (though now knowing the circumstances of her very existence, she wasn't sure  _what_ she could attribute to her human family, and what came from a life past), and he was the one she'd always been forced to acquiesce that carefully held control to. But suddenly, the morning after everything changed, she found herself lacking it, in every aspect of her life.  _Fate. Destiny. Soulmates._ Those words. The words that were used to speak of the greatest of loves, they were terrifying to her. It made her feel like a pawn in the great scheme of the universe, and even though she loved Brittany, she didn't know how to respond to it all, because it  _wasn't_ her choice, it wasn't either of their choices. Slowly, she cast her eyes up to meet Brittany's, though her own were hidden behind her dark glasses, and she couldn't help but melt at the sight. That swimming concern, that warm affection, that deep blue love, it suddenly felt all too real, and oh, so terrifying. As the yellow stone burned against her chest, reminding her of all they shared, of all they lost, Santana pulled her lip between her teeth, and she shut her eyes, needing a minute.

"Are you ready to go?" Mercedes asked, the concern in her best friend's voice irritating Santana. She wanted to be left alone, she wanted to  _think._ She wanted to run away and hide forever. She wanted to be wrapped up in Brittany's arms and covered in kisses. She was so confused, so conflicted, and she swallowed the primal scream that attempted to escape her throat.

"Yeah. Yeah I am." She managed, looking one last time to Brittany's face before turning herself away and following Mercedes to Economics.

* * *

Santana managed to make it through the school day, though that scream never seemed far off. Her psyche was contorted with conflicting emotions. The desire to run away to keep Brittany safe, after nightmares of her alien's death in a multitude of violent, violent ways still plagued her conscious mind. The desire to run away and fight the loss of control that learning of her past life pressed upon her. To find Brittany, to beg her, no matter what, to never let her go. After last period, rather than wait for Mercedes, rather than seek out Brittany, she kept on her gym clothes, she turned off her phone, ignoring the latest message from her girlfriend ( _let me know if you want me to come over tonight, I'm here),_ and she went for a run. She ignored the burning pain that persisted in her ribs, the pain that grew with each block she ran, and more importantly, she ignored all of the thoughts that swam in her head, ignored past life aliens, wakeful nightmares of death, of being stabbed in a swollen, silvery stomach (she was sure that's how Reyneva had died, she could feel a strange, phantom pain there on her own body), of black aliens eyes, of blue eyes and deep love that she wanted nothing more than to drown in. She ran, looping through the streets of Roswell, until she made her way through the back door of the diner, close to an hour later.

" _'_ _¡_ _Mija!_ Where have you been? Your father has been looking all over for you, and- were you running? You are not supposed to be exercising! Your ribs!" Santana's mother grabbed her, eyes wide with concern.

"I'm fine, Ma." She grumbled.

"Don't tell me you're fine! You could hurt yourself worse! Why can't you just listen to what the doctor said?" Hands were all over Santana's body, and she immediately flinched away, curling into herself.

"Don't  _touch me._ I said that I'm  _fine."_ Santana snapped, unable to control her boiling anger. "I'm seventeen, I can make my own damn decisions about  _my_ body."

" _Dic_ _ú_ _lpame!_ Don't you dare speak to your mother like that!" Javier Lopez's booming voice came through the door. "Apologize."

"Sorry." It was more of a grunt than a word, and the elder Lopezes exchanged a glance.

"You are not five years old, I won't tell you to say it like you mean it, you should know better." He reprimanded, and Santana didn't even bother trying to bring herself to care. "We've been waiting for you to come home. I have very, very good news."

"What? The International Olive Conference in Pueblo?"

"No, but thank you for the sarcasm. The Dean of Admissions at UNM finally returned my call today, I've got you an in person interview there a week from tomorrow. Not that you'll need a leg up into the accelerated program with your grades, and your activities. But still, it can never hurt."

"Great."

"Santana. What has gotten into you today?" Javier pressed. "This is the dream, this is what we've been working for your whole life."

"No, Papí." Santana burst out, rage rising in her chest, her need to gain an upper hand over  _something_ clawing it's way to the surface. "It's  _your_ dream. You're the one who wants me to go to UNM, you're the one who wants me to come back and spend the rest of my life running this  _diner._ You don't even  _know_ what I want!"

"We have been talking about this for  _years._ What are you trying to say? You've never once said anything before."

"Because would you have  _listened_ if I had? I'm a Lopez,  _you-_ _"_ She pointed violently to his chest, her face burning. "Have been telling me that since before I could even talk about to you. It's what Lopezes do. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You watch your tone, young lady."

"All I  _ever_ do is watch my tone. Watch my manners. Watch what I show the world. You own a crappy themed diner in this one horse town, you're not the goddamned President of the United States!"

"Santana." Maribel hissed. "Where is all this coming from?"

"Oh, Mamí, you  _know_ it's true." She narrowed her eyes at her mother, feeling this intense surge of  _hatred_ that the woman had never defended her, never encouraged her to create her own dreams, simply stood by while her father pushed his desires for her future upon her. "I'm done. I'm sick of it. I don't want your UNM interview, I want to decide what  _I_ want to do, because  _I_ want to do it. I am not a puppet."

"I think it's time you go upstairs." Javier's voice was low, commanding, and Santana rocked up on her tiptoes, almost challenging. "Now. When you're ready to speak with respect, and behave rationally, then you can come to see me."

"Oh, right, I forgot, it's irrational when people don't do what you say. Fine. I'm going. But if you think I'm going to miraculously come back down and go back to pretending, like I've spent  _seventeen_ years doing, then you are wrong!"

"Stop acting like a spoiled, indignant child, Santana Marie. Just go." He hissed.

Throat choked with angry tears, Santana whipped her head around, keeping her spine stiff as she made her way up the stairs. She'd gotten about halfway there when she froze suddenly, hearing what was being said in the hushed tones below her, words that made her blood run cold.

"I'm concerned, Javier. She's not been herself for weeks." Maribel murmured. "What if-?"

"Don't say it,  _amor._ I know the boy came to us in concern. She may be hot tempered and rash suddenly, but drugs? I won't believe that. She's too smart."

"I don't know. This just came out of nowhere, and if this had to do with a girl, we would know, wouldn't we?"

Unable to listen to anymore, Santana stomped the rest of the way up to her room. When she slammed behind the door behind herself, she collapsed against it, heavy sobs overtaking her body. She didn't know what to do with herself, she was absolute  _mess,_ and she hated being that way. She wanted Brittany, she wanted to be left alone, and because she couldn't decide, she simply wrapped her fingers around the stone, the physical manifestation of their two souls, and she continued to cry, until she was sure there were no tears left to ever cry again. Then, fortified by a second burst of anger, she fixed her face and climbed out her window, knowing exactly what she needed to do.

* * *

Over at the Pierce's house, the three blondes sat in Brittany's bedroom. Distracted by her phone, and the lack of a response from Santana, Brittany sprawled out on her stomach across her bed, twisting her hair as sort of a nervous tick. So much, she wanted to run to her girlfriend, especially as she felt a strange fury pulse inside of her, but she wouldn't. She'd give her the time to digest it all, to handle her emotions on her own, much as Brittany had tried to do as she lied awake in Santana's bed the previous night. Still though, it hurt, and it concerned her deeply, and looking again at the phone in her hands, she released a deep sigh.

"Brittany, are you listening?" Quinn's voice snapped her back to attention, and she tossed her phone over on the nightstand, needing it away from her.

"Yeah. Definitely."

"O-kay." She rolled her eyes, knowing that Brittany most definitely wasn't. "Look, I get that you're worried about Santana, but  _I_ am worried about our existence as a whole. Why is Holly entirely unconcerned about your people finding us?"

"Can you maybe  _not?_ _"_ Sam narrowed his eyes at Quinn. "Blood or not,  _Caderyna_ was the queen of the planet we left. The moment she was joined with Reyneva, the two of us became  _your_ people."

"Okay, whatever, you knew what I meant."

"No, actually, I don't know what you mean at all. I don't know where you stand, because all you've been talking about for the past hour is death, murder, and interplanetary wars. When Holly sees us again, she'll tell us what we should be concerned about, but until then, we need to look at Hummel as our biggest threat. I saw him in school this afternoon, talking to the crazy fake nurse lady, saying he's working on a new drug prevention program. He's up to something, and that should be where most of our focus is right now."

"I think Sam's right." Brittany offered.

"Of  _course_ you do."

"Quinn." Brittany looked at her, pleading. "This isn't about sides, or fighting, or anything. I just think that you're deflecting, when maybe we really should be talking about how we feel about this."

"How we  _feel?_ _"_ Quinn snorted bitterly. "Alright, Dr. Phillis, why don't you go ahead and start. How do  _you_ feel about the fact that your wife, or your mate, or whatever they call it, got murdered by your family while she was pregnant with your baby? How do you feel that while you were supposed to be queen, the entire planet fell to it's enemies, and we had to give up the throne and sneak away? How do you feel about-"

"Stop it!" Sam screamed, watching as his sister twisted in discomfort. "Quinn, that's enough."

"Is it?" She clamped her eyes shut, and both Sam and Brittany realized that she was crying, scary, silent, tearless sobs. "She's the one who wanted to talk about it! You want to know how I feel? I feel like I've been waiting my whole damn life here to feel like I'm connected to someone, and now I find out that not only did my sister choose  _you_ over me, so did my  _mother._ And I shouldn't even be mad, because Reyneva didn't have a choice, she was  _meant_ to be with you. And it wasn't even your fault she died, so I  _get_ why Polerma picked you. But I'm furious, and devastated. At you, at Sam, at  _me,_ at Holly Holliday, and even at  _Santana._ Even though we found her soul again, my sister was  _slaughtered,_ nothing changes that _._ So that's how I fucking feel, Brittany, okay?"

* * *

It was just at the end of Cheerios practice, when Santana arrived back at school. It had taken her longer than normal, because even with rage distracting her from the ache in her side, she'd gone easy, forgoing another run in favor of a brisk (and filled with stomps and huffs) walk. There, in the middle of the football field, were a few straggling cheerleaders and her personally appointed second-in-command, the one who's  _throat she was ready to rip out._

"Hummel!" She seethed, marching straight up so she was in his face. "You and me, let's go, right now."

"What?" His eyes grew comically wide, and his cherubic cheeks turned pink.

"You heard me, it's time we have a real serious conversation, you little conniving snake." Santana turned to the four girls who remained, mouths agape. "Go! Scatter! Find a life!"

"I'm sorry, Santana, but I have no idea what it is you're talking about."

"Bullshit!" She shrieked, holding herself back from lunging at him. "I know it was you! You told my parents that I was doing drugs. Who the  _fuck_ are you, and who gave you the  _right_ to play around with my  _life?_ _"_

"I-"

"Save it! What's your motive here, Lady Hummel? Fuck up my life and get the top spot on the squad? You want it? Take it! If you think I actually  _care_ about something as shitty and insignificant as that, then you're wrong! I  _told_ you at the competition that I wasn't on drugs, but you think that's an invitation to go to my  _parents?_ Who  _are_ you?"

"I am someone who  _cares_ about you!" Kurt screamed back at her, not backing down. "Don't you understand the movies my dad used to make me watch about drugs? I don't want to see anything bad happen to you!"

"I am  _not on drugs!_ _"_ Santana roared, her voice cracking, and angry tears falling from her eyes. "What don't you understand about that? You don't even  _know me!_ We go to school together, we're on the same team, we're both gay, what _ever,_ this doesn't mean we're best friends and that you can even  _remotely_ begin to understand my life!"

"Then what  _is_ this? If you're anything, Santana, it's constantly in control of your emotions. But lately? You're a mess! If it's not drugs, what are you hiding?" He questioned, and before he could even process what was about to happen, Santana's eyes darkened, and she hauled off and smacked him right across the face.

"Lopez!" A sharp voice shrieked out. "What the  _hell_ do you think you're doing? Have you gone absolutely cray-cray?"

"Roz, he-"

"Hit you? Because that's about the only damn excuse I'll take for this."

"No, he-"

"Then you keep your goddamn hands off of him! Why are you even here? You got a doctor's note saying you can be at my practice?"

"No, I-"

"Then get off my field!"

"You've gotta be kidding me right now." She seethed, backing down from where Kurt stood, holding his cheek and staring at her. "Fine. Whatever. Forget this, forget all of you. I don't need this in my life right now."

"Check that attitude of yours, Salsa Caliente, or you're gonna find yourself off of my squad for good."

"Oh!" A tart laugh escaped Santana's lips. "What a punishment! Kick me off the team where Lady Face tells my parents I'm on drugs, and  _you_  don't even care enough to listen to me. Whatever, I'm done, I quit!"

"Lopez!" Roz screamed after her, as Santana turned away violently, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to keep herself from having a breakdown. "You can't just quit like that!"

"I can do whatever I want!" She screamed back, storming off the field.

Santana was eternally grateful that by the time she made it to the locker room, everyone else had gone home. She felt like her skin was crawling, and repeatedly, as she stomped back there, she kept checking her arms, realizing that she wouldn't be surprised in the slightest, had strange alien bugs taken up residence in her flesh. She needed to go, she needed to get out of Roswell, to get away from everything, for just a little while, and sinking down onto the bench, cheeks streaked with tears, she dug her phone out of the pocket of her sweatpants.

"Aunt Sara." Santana choked out, the instant she heard the tell-tale click of the phone being picked up. "I really, really need you to come get me."

* * *

Neither Brittany, nor Sam, were stunned by Quinn's confession. They hadn't been exactly sure when it would happen, but both knew that everyone had a breaking point, and the circumstances of their existence on Earth seemed to be that point for all three of the women who had once been on Uecridis. For Sam, the least impacted by the news, though he was, truthfully, more than a little shaken over learning that he'd been the one who'd gone to avenge the queen's death, the only one of the four of them who'd committed murder, he felt that he needed to be strong, needed to prevent his sister (as he had earlier, in the car) and Quinn from losing it. So, when she raged, he slowly approached her, laying a tentative hand on her shoulder, a hand he was shocked to find was not immediately pushed away.

"I think…" He started, and watched Quinn give a small nod, allowing him to continue. "I think that once we get to know Holly better, we'll have more answers, and maybe everything will all make a little more sense."

"I'm pretty sure none of it will ever make sense." The dejection in Brittany's voice was thick, and she reached over for her phone again, sighing audibly. "I'm worried about her. I'm trying to give her space, but she is so,  _so_ angry, that I swear, it's burning me from the inside out."

"Do you want me to call Mercedes?" Sam suggested, and Brittany just shrugged.

"It all sounds so dumb and clingy. But I can't help it, it's actually unbearable to be apart from her when she's in so much pain, and to not know exactly  _why_."

"I'm going to make the call. She probably knows more than us right now."

"Thank you, Sam." Brittany looked down, sucking in a breath.

" _Sam. I was just about to call you._ _"_ Mercedes revealed in a loud whisper, and Brittany strained to hear through the phone. " _Shit has just completely hit the fan over here with the Lopezes._ _"_

"What do you mean? Hold up, I'm putting you on speaker, okay?"

" _Yeah, please. I need to talk to Brittany."_

"What happened?" Brittany felt that throb in her chest grow, and she thought like she might be sick right then and there.

" _Santana came home from school and_ flipped  _on her parents. From what I got, she told her father he was controlling, and told him she wasn't going to some interview at UNM. Then she snuck out, went back to school, and slapped Kurt Hummel in the face and quit the Cheerios. Her parents are losing their minds. They think she's on drugs, her mom has been crying in the bathroom at the diner for the past hour."_

"Mercedes. Is she okay?"

"No, Brittany, she's really not. I've never seen her like this. She called Aunt Sara to drive all the way here and pick her up at school, and when they got back here to pick up her clothes so she could spend the night, Santana was crying, Sara and Mr. Lopez were fighting, and it was a really big mess."

"She went to Sara's?"

" _Yeah. And I think that you should go there_."

"She's been avoiding my messages all day. She's dealing with a lot, and she obviously wants space."

"Look, Brittany, I know you love her, and you two are cosmic soulmates, or whatever, but I have known her for my entire life. She pushes back when she gets scared, and right now, she's  _out of her mind._ She loves you so much, I know that she does, and she accepted everything else really easy, but this past life thing was a breaking point for her, okay? After today, she  _needs_ you."

"Okay." Brittany didn't hesitate, trying to formulate a plan in her head about how she was going to get to Ruidoso without her parents wondering where the car had gone.

" _My parents went to my little brother_ _'_ _s Little League game in Phoenix, they_ _'_ _re gone until tomorrow night._ " Mercedes told her, as if she could read her mind. " _You can come pick my car up here, just don_ _'_ _t crash it._ "

"Thank you, Mercedes."

" _Don_ _'_ _t worry about it, alien alliance, right? Just help her, please._ "

"Time out." Quinn interrupted, scowl back in place. "Are we just going to pretend that your girlfriend didn't  _slap the sheriff_ _'_ _s son?_ That's the exact opposite of laying low. Does she  _want_ to get us killed? _"_

" _I_ _'_ _m already on that, Quinn. I know she_ _'_ _s an idiot for slapping Kurt, of all people, but apparently he told her parents that he thinks she_ _'_ _s on drugs._ _"_

"It's what Hummel is feeding him. He tried talking to her about it after she got hurt at the cheerleading competition." Brittany explained. "I think he's actually concerned about her."

"Well great for him, he's  _concerned._ Maybe we should just go right on over and tell him the truth."

"Quinn, stop being a bitch." Sam snapped. "You know that's not what she means."

" _Guys, I_ _'_ _m on it. The less we make of it, the better. She had a violent reaction, which isn_ _'_ _t really all that out of character for her. What would_ you  _do if someone told you parents something like that?_ _"_

" _If_ Judy actually gave a shit, I would still lay low, because it's the only way we can survive. Brittany, you need to control her."

"I'm her girlfriend,  _not_ her warden, Quinn. I'll  _talk_ to her, but judging by the fact that I feel like I'm going to choke on all of her emotions right now, she already knows that she shouldn't have done it."

"She's  _one of us._ She needs to learn-"

"I  _know._ _"_ Brittany cut her off with a harsh click of her tongue. Because she  _did_ know, of course she knew, and Santana knew too, when she was thinking rationally, but the problem was, Santana _wasn_ _'_ _t,_ and Brittany needed to get herself ready to go, to protect her, to make promises to her, to love her even harder, while everything was new and scary. "I'll handle it."

* * *

They were halfway between Roswell and Ruidoso, and Santana still hadn't said a word to Sara. She was mostly curled up into herself in the front passenger seat, knees to her chest, staring out the window at the vast, empty desert. Her entire body ached with regret, not for telling her father that she wasn't going to UNM, not for quitting the Cheerios, not even, really, for slapping Kurt, but for effectively altering pretty significant parts of her human life in a matter of hours. She shouldn't be this reactionary, she knew that, but she was just…having a hard time, or something significantly less understated than that. Digging her phone out of her pocket, Santana looked at it, read again, the messages from Brittany. Though she'd yet to reply, she kept looking at them, really wanting to get herself together enough that she could actually send a text message to her girlfriend, her girlfriend who she loved beyond anything, her girlfriend, who she'd found, after being separated by millions of miles and an entire solar system.

"So, sugar baby, are you doing to tell me what's going on?" Sara asked softly, seeking out her niece's hand to squeeze.

"You mean you didn't get the gist of it from Papí's screaming tirade about my ungrateful behavior, and how you better give me a drug test when we get to your house?"

"You know better than anyone that I mostly tune your father out, and I know that you're not on drugs. So what's happening?"

"Aunt Sara, do you believe in soulmates?" Santana unfurled her legs, and turned a little so that she was facing her aunt.

"Ah, so this is about Brittany?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. There's just a lot going on."

"Okay." Sara was cautious with Santana, knowing that if she pushed her, she'd never get to the bottom of what was going on. "But yes, I believe in soulmates."

"It doesn't freak you out?"

"No, why would it?"

"You don't feel like that whole universe pushing you together is  _weird?_ _"_

"Sometimes you say things, and I'm reminded that you actually are my brother's daughter." Sara laughed a little bit to herself. "No, it doesn't freak me out. I think that if you meet your soulmate, even if the universe wasn't drawing you together, you'd still want to be with them."

"Hmm."

"Santana. First love is really scary, but it can also be really beautiful. Did something happen between the two of you that has you so upset?"

" _I love her._ _"_ Santana whispered, feeling strange to say it aloud like that to someone but Brittany for the first time, even though Sara had called it a week prior. "I'm so in love with her, and it all happened so fast, and it's terrifying."

"And she…?"

"She loves me too." She choked on a sob, thinking of unanswered texts and dead aliens and the yellow stone that seems to be pulsing below her shirt. "I think she's always loved me."

"This is a good thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. But today I'm freaking out, and being a total psycho, and I haven't answered her messages all day because I needed space to think."

"Emotional intimacy is harder than physical intimacy, and if you have both…" Sara trailed off, and Santana's cheeks flamed hot, giving herself away. Sara wouldn't pry though, Santana knew, she was just making a point. "A lot has happened since I saw you last week."

"It did." Santana laughed through tears. "I'm sorry I made you drive all the way to Roswell to get me. But I'm still not all that sorry I told Papí I wasn't going to his dumb college. I think he thinks I'm going to take it back."

"You shouldn't be sorry for either. I'm always here to for you."

"I know. Thanks, Aunt Sara."

* * *

Feeling _slightly_ better after her talk with Sara, even though she couldn't really talk about what had truly set her off, Santana went up, immediately upon arriving at the house, to shower. She'd had every intention of calling Brittany when she got out, talking to her, apologizing for being kind of a jerk (because even though she needed space, it didn't mean she had any right to make her worry like that). But apparently, her body had other plans, and exhausted from lack of sleep, and emotionally drained, Santana ended up falling asleep on top of the covers in the bedroom Sara kept for her, the one that sometimes felt more like her own than the one above the diner, wearing only a grey terry robe. Finding her niece curled up on her side, looking just as she had as the smallest child, Sara smiled to herself, draping a blanket over the girl's sleeping form, and retreating downstairs, hoping Santana's mind would unpuzzle itself in sleep. She was sitting at the table, going through some invoices for supplies before she had to go visit one of her patients in the hospital, when the doorbell rang.

"Brittany." Sara was surprised when she opened the door, seeing the girl who didn't look much less disheveled than her niece. "What are you doing here? Come on, come in."

"I'm sorry to just show up here." Brittany blushed furiously, trying to smooth out the invisible wrinkles on her jeans and stand a little taller, though after no sleep and a long drive from Roswell, she was pretty sure she was mostly just walking dead. "It's just, Mercedes called me, and she told me about what happened, and I already knew she was upset today. I'm sorry. I feel like such a stalker, but…I'm just really, really worried about her."

"It's okay." Sara smiled softly, taking Brittany's hand. "She didn't tell me much, but I think she'll want to see you as much as you want to see her."

"Oh, good." A deep sigh of relief hissed through Brittany's lips, having been worried all day that maybe it was all too much, maybe Santana would rather resume her normal life, soul be damned.

"She fell asleep right after we got here."

"Is it…?"

"I'll show you where she is." Sara nodded, and led Brittany up the stairs.

After telling Brittany that she'd planned on leaving money for Santana for pizza while she was at the hospital, and that she was more than welcome to stay overnight, Sara went back downstairs. Slowly, nervously, Brittany opened the door, finding Santana sprawled across the bed, her dark hair covering her face, and her body curled up like she was protecting herself. Brittany had to press her hand against her heart, the swell of love and affection she felt actually painful. So badly, she wanted to gather her girl in her arms, kiss away the past twenty-four hours, make everything better. Instead though, she sat on the edge of the bed and watched that beautiful creature sleep. A long time passed, long enough for Brittany to hear Sara's car pull out of the driveway, leaving them alone in the house, but Santana remained asleep, stirring only occasionally.

"No! No! Stop! Don't hurt her!" Santana shrieked out in sleep sometime after the sun began to set, twisting violently, and Brittany immediately jumped up off the bed. "Let her go! Let her go! Please! Please!"

"Santana. Santana." Brittany pressed a hand to the side of Santana's cheek and barely spoke above a whisper, remembering something about not waking someone from a nightmare, but unable to bear seeing her like that.

"You can't! Don't kill her! Brittany!"

"I'm here. I'm right here." Tears streamed down Brittany's face as she pressed a kiss to Santana's forehead, trying to soothe her. Shuddering hard and wrenching herself upwards, Santana emerged from the pull of sleep, sweating and sobbing. "It's okay, it's alright. It was only a dream, everything is okay."

"They…and…you…and…can't breathe." Santana gasped for air, and Brittany sat beside her, wrapping her arms around her and rocking their bodies back at forth.

"Just a dream, just a dream. I promise."

"Brittany." Santana buried her face in Brittany's neck, steadying herself. "You're here."

"I'm here. Mercedes called me."

"I'm a mess." She didn't move away from Brittany, only wiped the tears from her face with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "A big fucking mess, and I just…I don't even know."

Brittany didn't say anything else, she just held Santana, ran her fingers through long hair, let Santana listen to the beat of her heart, and let herself feel the pulse in Santana's temple against her chest.

"I went a little crazy today. I just want to have some kind of control over my life, and I feel like everything is out of my hands. Oh God, I slapped Kurt, I slapped the  _sheriff_ _'_ _s son,_ no wonder everyone thinks I'm on drugs. Fuck, Britt, I'm sorry, I totally fucked up, and-"

"Hey, look at me." Brittany coaxed, tilting Santana's chin up so she could see her conflicted dark eyes. "It's okay."

"It's  _not_ though. He's going to tell Hummel, and  _ugh,_ I am putting you in danger because I was so focused on  _not_ putting you in danger, that I lost all control."

"Honey. I know that you slapped Kitty Wilde after the homecoming dance Sophomore year, because she told you that you looked like a hooker in your dress, and that you once elbowed Susie Pepper in the stomach for breathing too close to you, and then told Mr. Martinez that it was a muscle spasm."

"Yeah, but getting grounded by my dad for not behaving respectably is  _way_ different. It's Hummel, and…" Santana sniffled, hiding her face in Brittany's hair.

"And you reacted exactly how a lot of people would act. Kurt told your parents something untrue about you. I really don't condone violence, but I do understand how that, combined with everything else you're dealing with, would make you snap. We've all made mistakes, Santana, but like I've had to tell Quinn for years, not every step will lead us straight to being discovered." Brittany accepted Santana's soft hum as agreement, and just held her for awhile, trying to let her heart steady itself and her breathing slow, before she spoke again. "I know you don't talk about it, and you get really uncomfortable when it's mentioned, but you really don't want to go to UNM though, do you?"

"I don't think so. I've never really been  _allowed_ to want anything else, so I just figured I'd go. But I don't know, today my mom was nagging me about going for a run, and then my dad came in about the stupid meeting he set up for me, and I snapped."

"It's okay to want something different than what's expected of you." Brittany told her, giving Santana an out, an out from all that she was involved in, if she wanted to take it.

"It's all a lot right now, but I want  _you,_ Britt. Today…today I was trying to push away all the things that were expected of me, college, and cheerleading, and even you." Santana confessed quietly, cupping Brittany's cheek, looking deep in her eyes. "But I don't think I'll ever know how to  _not_ want you. All day, I had to look at your messages, all day, I kept thinking that the only thing that would make me feel like my whole body wasn't going to splinter apart and float off into the universe was to hold onto you. I thought maybe I could just stop  _all of it_ …and maybe I wouldn't be so angry, and maybe it would keep us safe, and alive, and…but I can't."

"I was ready to let you go this morning." Brittany whispered, her nose brushing Santana's. "And then Sam reminded me that you can't change fate. There's nothing romantic about what happened to us, to  _you,_ in that other life, it's  _awful,_ and every single minute, for as long as I live, I'm going to fight to make sure it  _never_ happens again. But us? The story of how we loved so hard and so fully that we  _found each other_ like this? I can't let it go. I love you. I love you so much, Santana. I'm terrified of what it means, but I want every moment I have to be  _with you."_

"I love you too, Brittany. But why does it have to be so  _sad?_ God, I just had a nightmare about you dying, and I kept having them last night. I just want our story to be a  _happy_ one."

"We don't know the end yet. Caderyna and Reyneva, that was just the beginning. I'm kind of just holding out hope that maybe Brittany and Santana get their happy ending."

"I just need to  _feel_ you." Santana brought her lips to Brittany's, kissing her, drinking all of her in, releasing a sharp hiss when she felt Brittany's tongue dance with her own.

Santana, remembering she was wearing nothing but a robe, a robe that had become untied at the fitful end of her sleep, blushed a little at her exposure, but Brittany simply smiled and pressed her hand over the pendant between Santana's breasts, feeling again the way Santana's heart beat through it.

"Come here." Santana's voice was raspy as she lied back, inviting Brittany to fit herself between her legs and lie on top of her. "Please."

Complying eagerly, Brittany settled herself on Santana, still kissing her, pulling back, occasionally, to marvel in the way Santana's dark eyes seemed to hold every secret of the universe. She watched as Santana grew needy, desperate, craving some kind of physical reminder that in the here and now, they were alive, they were okay. Brittany knew that in any lifetime, in any world, she would give her beautiful girl anything it was that she wanted. While Santana's body heaved with want, Brittany removed her clothes, pressing her nakedness to her girlfriend, hissing and moaning as tan hands wandered over every freckle and mark that covered her body.

"I wonder if you were made to be perfect, or if I was born to see you that way." Santana breathed heavy in Brittany's ear, wrapping her legs around a slim waist and attaching her lips to a hammering pulse point, growing faster still at Santana's reverent words.

* * *

 _"I really want to be with you, Reyneva." Caderyna confessed, sitting on the same bank they found themselves on each afternoon. Whole body purple and shaking with nerves, Caderyna untwisted her smallest finger from where it held the queen's and took her whole hand instead. "I don't know what it means, really, to belong with someone, but somehow I still_ know  _that it's you who I do. I don't want my time with you to be limited to afternoon walks, and dinners, because you're so careful not to startle me. I want to...I want to share your_ life.  _I want to be your mate, in all the ways."_

_"Cady. My Cady." Reyneva managed, so overcome by the words she knew it was hard for Caderyna to make, her understanding of all the feelings that overtook her still very new._

_"Please don't be sad. I didn't mean to upset you. If I was mistaken, if you've changed your mind..." Caderyna rushed out, her antennae drooping, and Reyneva quickly brought her small hands to Cady's face._

_"No. No, my love. It's all that I want. From when I was small, I imagined what it would be like if I was a lucky one who had another half out there. But you, you in reality, Caderyna, are so, so much greater and more beautiful than I ever could have dreamed. You, the way you make me feel, it's just...it's all the good there is in one perfect being."_

_"Neva." Caderyna found it so hard to focus on swimming black eyes, and she looked out to the stream, the place where it all began, before refocusing. "You called me your love."_

_"I did."_

_"Is it...may I call you that too?" Caderyna asked, and Reyneva simply brought their mouths together, savoring the feeling of the way they seemed to be made to touch. "I want to stay with you forever."_

_"That's all I want too."_

_"There might be one other thing I want." She spoke to quietly, so nervously, that Reyneva feared what she'd say, but urged her to speak anyway. "I'd like for you to take me away, love, from where others can see us, and I'd like to feel what it means to truly be your mate."_

* * *

"Are you alright?" Brittany stopped the spirals she traced on Santana's sides, and focused entirely on her face.

"Yeah." Santana panted, eyes glazed over a little. "It's just them,  _us._ It was who I've been seeing all along, but now, they're so much closer, and you were so beautiful then too. Kiss me. I want you to see."

* * *

_"Every minute with you opens up my eyes to something brand new." Caderyna murmured sleepily, her head resting against Reyneva's torso, feeling the strong pulse that ran through her body as they lie on the soft brush of the forest floor. "I don't think I'll ever tire of you."_

_"I hope not, not when you've told me you want to stay with me forever."_

_"I do. Forever and ever. Much of which can be spent doing what we just were. You were-"_

_"So were you, love." Reyneva laughed, silencing Caderyna with her mouth. "I'd like if tonight, you came to my bed with me, rather than going to your own. If you'd like, that is."_

_"I'd more than like. Now that you're so deep within me, I'm pretty sure I won't sleep without you near."_

_"You may not sleep_ with  _me near." She teases, impressed when Caderyna understands immediately, finally beginning to fully grasp the way she speaks and jokes, in a pattern so foreign to her._

_"That kind of sleepless night, I'll take."_

_"We can sleep now though, if you like. The trees will shelter us from prying eyes, and I like to rest beneath them."_

* * *

"You saw." Santana spoke against Brittany's mouth, and blue eyes shined with tears, amazed at seeing  _home,_ of seeing Reyneva.

"I did, and it was amazing. But right now...I only want to see you,  _this_ you."

"Then I'm yours to see."

Brittany let her eyes roam Santana's entire body, taking in all she'd missed in the darkness of their tent in the woods. She couldn't stop her mouth as it came down, kissing the sensitive spot where Santana's shoulder met her clavicle, making her shiver. She took her time, mapping every inch of skin she could with her lips, taking a dark nipple into her mouth, holding Santana as she writhed and ached, kissing again the fading bruise on her side, trailing her tongue over a toned stomach, nipping at a protruding hipbone. To Brittany, it were if Santana had been designed to be worshipped, and worship her, she would. With her mouth, Brittany would soothe away every doubt, every worry, would make them both forget, for the shortest time, that a world of uncertainty existed for them outside of that bedroom.

Where it had started with Caderyna and Reyneva, their lovemaking became simply about their human forms, the physical and emotional needs of  _only_ Brittany and Santana. As Brittany moved lower, Santana parted her thighs further, exposing herself to Brittany in a way she'd always been too guarded to do with another (wholly confident facade aside). But Brittany wasn't just a partner, she was a lover, a soulmate, and in a strange sort of way, for two so young, the equivalent of her  _wife._ At seeing Santana fully bared, at breathing in the scent of her want, Brittany felt her breath hitch, felt her whole body thrum with it's own need. She looked up at Santana then, at the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the terry robe slipped down past her shoulders, but still covering her arms, her lips parted and swollen, silently begging her girl continue, and Brittany smiled, bringing Santana's hand up to her mouth, kissing the palm of it and squeezing before laying it to rest over the pendant around her neck. Santana's other hand found it's way into blonde locks, affectionately tangling it here, and tracing with her thumb the shell of Brittany's ear, trying to control herself at the sight of the girl she loved, naked between her legs.

"Britt." Santana sighed, curling her toes to keep from lifting her hips when Brittany's nose nudged her bundle of nerves, and the very tip of her tongue poked out tentatively. "Baby."

Brittany, eager to take care of Santana, began exploring her with her mouth, taking note of each moan, each sigh, each tender utterance of her name, storing it deep within her brain, wanting to memorize each and every thing that made her feel good. When she wrapped her lips around Santana's clit, moaning at the way it it pulsates against her tongue, she felt the first tremor quake through the body below her, and she lifted her eyes up, needing to watch her fall apart. Santana had pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, and was struggling to keep her eyes open, but not daring to close them. Brittany, not quite ready for Santana to come, slowed her mouth, ceasing her suckling, in favor of the flat of her tongue, and inciting a low mewl from Santana as her two fingers slipped easily inside of her. She pulled her mouth away completely then, and watched, mesmerized, as the digits disappeared into Santana's wet heat, watched the way they seemed to be made to fit there, made to pleasure her. It was the gentle tug on her hair that broke her away from her trance, Santana's small voice calling her back up.

Before Brittany could make it all the way back up to lie face to face, her fingers still buried deep within Santana, she felt a strong thigh press deliberately between her own, and she couldn't help but grind down on it, her whole body alight and craving. Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck, swallowing the deep moan in a kiss, unsure who's it was, Brittany's, at the pressure Santana was putting on her sex, or her own, tasting herself on her lover's lips for the first time, but the reverberation of it was overwhelming, nonetheless. Santana thrust her thigh up, as Brittany curled and scissored her fingers, searching deeper, deeper within her at every motion, making her shake, making her beg. Even as Santana fell apart though, trembling with the power of her orgasm, she kept her rhythm steady for Brittany, trying, trying to bring her over the edge with her. Her tongue twisted with Brittany's, and still keeping one hand on the back of the alien girl's neck, Santana brought the other down between her legs. Choking back a moan at just how much wetness coated her thigh, Santana pressed her fingers against Brittany's sensitive nub, rubbing until the girl above her cried hot tears of ecstasy into Santana's neck.

"Beautiful." Santana breathed heavy into Brittany's ear, fingers tickling up Brittany's naked back as her body trembled and panted  _I love you_ _'_ _s_ escaped her lips. Trying to gain her composure, Brittany meant to move a little, but Santana clamped her thighs together, holding Brittany inside of her. "Stay. Stay like this, just a little while. I feel whole this way."

"Okay." Brittany whispered. "I feel it too."

"You came here for me. Oh, God, Britt." Santana felt herself start to panic a little, and Brittany held her close. "You drove from Roswell, and your parents, and  _Sara._ "

"My parents think I'm at Quinn's, and Sara is at the hospital. It's just us right now. And Santana?" She wanted to take the embarrassment from Santana's face, to kiss every bit of it away. "I'll always come for you, when I can feel that you need me. I promise you that, alright?"

"I almost said  _wanky_ and ruined that." Santana's smirk was unavoidable, and Brittany nudged her nose, brushing her lips over swollen ones, glad to see her playful. "I'm going to get better and stronger and not be such a mess over this, I promise  _you_ that."

"San." Brittany tested the shortened name, and felt Santana smile at it. "You just found all of this out twenty-four hours ago, you went through your whole life as this normal, small town girl, and in a matter of a few weeks, I kind of turned that all upside down. I think you're doing a really good job."

"You're just saying that because you're in love with me, and because we are both very,  _very_ naked."

"I'm not. Listen. Together, we're going to deal with what comes. We're going to love, and be happy that we found each other, and we're  _not_ going to break up because either of us thinks it's safer. And if there's a threat against us, you and I, and Quinn, and Sam, and Mercedes, we're going to kick some serious ass, because I'm not losing you."

"Okay." Santana nodded, because terrifying or not, she found the idea of fighting so survive significantly  _less_ displeasing than tearing herself from Brittany, of denying what was very clearly her destiny. "You're not driving back tonight, right?"

"No. Mercedes lent me her car, and-"

"Mercedes lent you her  _car?_ She won't even let me drink coffee in there. She makes me  _wash my hands_ before I get in."

"Guess she likes me better." Brittany teased. "Or she was so worried about her best friend, that she didn't really care about coffee stains or fingerprints. Plus, I'm not sure if you heard, but I kind of have supernatural powers. I'm pretty sure those things don't stand a chance against Brittany Susan Pierce."

"Babe, I'm pretty sure  _nothing_ stands a chance against you." Santana laughed wholeheartedly, and then her stomach let out an embarrassing growl. "I guess we can't really stay like this forever, can we?"

"Probably not." Brittany shook her head, pecking Santana's lips. "But Sara told me that she was leaving you money for pizza, so if you want, we can get dressed, eat, and then maybe talk some more?"

"Yeah, Britt, that sounds perfect."


	14. We Are Family

One of the things Brittany was most grateful for, she'd come to realize, in those early weeks of her relationship with Santana, was how little sleep her body actually needed to function. Even when she wasn't worried sick over her girlfriend, Brittany loved watching her sleep, loved seeing the way she curled so naturally into her, the way her ear always seemed to find a place over her heart, because the beat of it truly called out to her. After they'd finished their lovemaking the night before, they'd ordered a pizza and showered together, before they returned to bed, Brittany wearing a pair of Santana's sweatpants that were just a little too short for her, and watching  _Serendipity_ on TBS before drifting off into their intertwined dreamworlds. It was after five in the morning, and Brittany had been wide awake for over an hour, knowing that she had to get up and head back to Roswell soon, though it was still undetermined whether or not Santana would be joining her on that return trip.

"Sweetheart." Brittany whispered, brushing soft kisses to Santana's hairline. She'd never used that endearment with her before, she'd never used  _any_ endearments with her, though after Santana had called her  _baby_ in the midst of their moment the night before, it just felt so natural, so right, and she swore that she could see Santana smiling in her sleep. "Wake up."

"Hmm…'s early, tired" Santana mumbled, burying her face in Brittany's shoulder and groaning.

"I need to go to school." She rubbed circles on Santana's lower back, smiling at how absolutely adorable sleepy, grumbly Santana was. "I wasn't sure if you were staying here, or, if you wanted to come back with me, so your aunt doesn't have to drive you to Roswell, or what, but I didn't want you to wake up with me gone, either way."

"I have to go back…I have to go deal with all the stuff." Santana sighed, rolling over and covering her eyes with her elbow. "I'd rather go with you. When do we need to leave?"

"Probably a half an hour. Will coffee help?"

"Coffee would be out of this world right now." Santana hummed appreciatively, trying to push herself up into a sitting position. "I was born and raised in a diner, I don't think I know what a morning without coffee looks like."

"I figured." Brittany laughed, capturing Santana's lips in a kiss. "Do you think your aunt would mind if I went to make some?"

"Britt, you don't have to make me coffee. I can wait for us to stop on the way."

"I know, but I've never made you coffee before, and I'd really like to." She blushed a little, and it was Santana's turn to steal a kiss.

"You're so good to me. If you really want to, Aunt Sara doesn't care who rummages around in her kitchen, and she really likes you."

"She does?"

"Yeah. She's a big fan of things that make me happy. And you are definitely number one on the list of things that do that."

Brittany felt her entire body blush at the thought of being the foremost thing that made Santana happy, especially after she'd been so concerned of the opposite the day before, especially after seeing the way Santana had been so wrecked over everything they'd learned since their encounter with Holly Holliday. It's what she wanted so badly, to be the one who made Santana happiest, and seeing only a glimpse of Caderyna and Reyneva, Brittany truly believed that singular desire crossed every boundary of time and space. With Santana snuggled into her side the way she was, Brittany seriously considered skipping school, staying like that forever, but she knew she couldn't, she knew that more than ever, especially after her girlfriend's outburst the day before, that they all needed to lay low, they all needed to go about their lives as usual, and staying in bed far from home was far from being normal.

* * *

They lingered a few more moments, until Brittany pushed herself up from the bed, tucking a lock of Santana's hair behind her ear, and knowing the human girl would need just a little longer to rouse herself. It was the most intimate thing she'd ever done, Brittany decided, more intimate even than sex, using Santana's toothbrush, sliding into a pair of her panties and plain black tank top, before pulling her own jeans on. It was so domestic that she felt a hum of happiness deep within her, and with another kiss on Santana's pouty lips as she finally pulled herself from the bed, Brittany slipped down the stairs and into the kitchen. What she wasn't expecting when she crossed the threshold was to find Sara already there, coffee mug in hand and flipping through the morning paper.

"Oh, hi, Sara, I…um." Brittany suddenly felt sheepish, and she kept her eyes down at her feet. "Santana said it would be okay if I came down to make coffee, but I didn't realize you'd be up, and I don't want to disturb you."

"My niece already has you running coffee for her?" Sara cocked an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "I guess you've found the true way into the heart of a Lopez. You're not disturbing me at all, coffee's already made. Pour yourself a mug, sit, if I know Santana, she'll be awhile, you may as well have a cup yourself before you make hers to go. I'm assuming she's headed back to Roswell with you?"

"Yes, that's the plan. If that's alright with you." She nodded, following Sara's instructions and pouring a splash of milk in her coffee before taking a seat. "I know you didn't really get to spend time with her, or anything, since I came and kind of stole her away last night."

"It was you she needed. You, and a place away from my brother, so she could figure out that head of hers. I'm not going to pretend to know what it is that's happening between the two of you, but please, I'm asking you to be careful with her heart."

"There is nothing I will try harder to do in the universe. She's so, so special to me, like, more than I think anyone else could even imagine. I love her, and I'll keep her heart safe. I think mine would shatter if hers was broken."

"You're wise beyond your years, I can see it in your eyes. I've always told my Santana that she's an old soul, and I think she's found a kindred spirit in you." Sara told Brittany, and though she knew that Sara had no idea the magnitude of her words, Brittany found herself swallowing hard. "Just let her dream. Please, let her dream and grow and  _be._ I know this relationship is really new, but you'll see, as time goes on, just how important that is to her."

"I think I see it already, Sara." Brittany took a long sip from her mug.

"And Brittany? I know that you're keeping things private, because of the struggles of coming out, and the like." Brittany nodded to Sara's words, still figuring that was the simplest story, even if Brittany's adopted parents had known about her sexuality for  _years,_ one of the few things she  _didn_ _'_ _t_ keep private, until things were safer, until Hummel's eyes were off Brittany, and they could embrace their love for one another out in the open, a day they both couldn't wait for. "But you're safe here, just so you know. I've always told Santana, no matter what secrets she has, she'll always be embraced in my house. Now, that same thing is extended to you. You'll never find any judgement from me for being who you are."

"I…I really appreciate that, thank you." She nodded, and though she knew she could never reveal who she  _actually_ was to Santana's aunt, something about those words comforted her.

"That being said, you break my niece's heart, I'll kill you, so…"

"I won't. I don't actually think it's even physically possible for me to. I'd probably die or something…sorry, that sounded really dramatic and ridiculous."

"Young love. I've been there." Sara smiled softly, and Brittany just nodded, embarrassed by the words she'd spoken. "Enjoy it, things get so much more difficult the older you get"

"Aunt Sara." Santana sauntered into the room, sneakers in her hand and bag slung across her chest, making Brittany's eyes crinkle with soft adoration at the sight. "You're talking like you're eighty, not forty."

" _Almost_ forty, excuse you, sugar baby."

"Yeah, just prove my point a little more. Did you kidnap my girlfriend while she was getting coffee?"

"No, I just know you, figured she'd be waiting awhile if she went back upstairs. Although this is the fastest I've ever seen you get ready. Brittany, you put a little pep in this girl's step."

"I even threw my sheets in the wash, so how about that?" Santana pressed a hand to her hip, and Brittany stood as they bantered, still wanting to make Santana's coffee to go, but smiling inwardly at the way they interacted.

"Are you sure you're Santana? You haven't been abducted by aliens or something?" Sara joked, causing Santana's eyes to slide ever so subtly to Brittany.

"Nope, no little green men in my life. No men in my life at all, actually. Just a really pretty girl." She winked, taking a sip out of Brittany's mostly empty mug. "Good coffee."

"You say that every time you're here. Just because I didn't use my diner genes doesn't mean I didn't get them."

"Yeah…" Santana trailed off, and Brittany tried to give her a reassuring smile.

"You are free to do whatever it is you want to do. No matter what your father thinks. His dreams aren't yours, I'm proud of you for telling him as much yesterday." Sara spoke sternly.

"I'm just not looking forward to seeing him today. This whole thing is kind of a nightmare, Aunt Sara."

"Well, that kid who told them you're on drugs deserves more than the slap you gave him, and your father probably deserves more than that for never taking your opinion into account on anything. It's what he does, what he's been doing his whole life, but it's unacceptable. I know it's hard, sugar baby, but you've gotta keep standing up to him."

"Yeah well that went really well yesterday." Santana mumbled, and bringing the styrofoam cup of coffee to her girlfriend, Brittany rested a hand between her shoulder blades, a hand Santana melted into.

"You have support, Santana." Sara and Brittany exchanged a nod.

"You do." Brittany murmured, fingers tracing over Santana's protruding vertebrae, a strangely comforting sensation.

"He might end up driving me back here himself tonight."

"The door is always open for you, my love. But remember, he does love you, even though he has a strange way of showing it. It doesn't excuse his behavior, but in his way, this is him caring."

"Thanks, Aunt Sara. For coming to get me, for letting Brittany stay with me last night…"

"Yes, thank you, Sara. I really, really appreciate it."

"Thank you's are unnecessary, girls. I want you to have a safe place. Now go, you're going to be late for school."

"Can you-"

"If he calls, I'll tell him I drove you back." Sara finishes Santana's question. "Just drive safe, okay? And send me a text message to let me know you've made it to school."

"I will." Santana wrapped her arms around her aunt, and Sara engulfed her in a tight hug, squeezing the girl she loved like a daughter and kissing the top of her head.

* * *

When they made it out to Mercedes' car, Santana secured her coffee cup into the holder while Brittany backed out of the driveway. Before they'd even made it off Sara's street, Santana had found Brittany's hand and pulled it into her lap, absently playing with her long fingers as Brittany drove through the vast emptiness of the desert. It was something she'd already come to love, long silent drives, holding Brittany's hand, watching the intensity in her eyes as she cautiously avoided potholes and various desert life forms on the straight road. Looking over her sunglasses, Brittany caught Santana's eye in the rearview mirror, and she smiled, she smiled that smile that made Santana feel like this, this intense  _feeling_ of just being with Brittany was more like home than anything she'd ever known.

"I'm going to miss you." Santana murmured against Brittany's lips when they were outside of Mercedes' house, the first they'd spoken in well over an hour.

"I know." Brittany curled her fingers around the the pendant on Santana's neck and kissed her just a little harder. "Do you have to work tonight?"

"As of now, no, but who knows what I'm going to be sentenced to when my father gets ahold of me. Could end up on dishwashing duty for the rest of my life."

"He makes you do that?"

"He never has before, but I never really get in trouble. And he's never thought I was a drug addict before, so..." She shook her head. "I have to figure this whole mess out today, and get my human life I'm order. I'm sorry-"

"You're going to work it out." Brittany rubbed her nose against Santana's, making her smile. "We talked about it last night. You had a normal human reaction. Burt can't hold that against you, or against _me._ As far as he knows, you and I hardly know each other."

"I love you. And I appreciate you not making me feel like crap about this. Quinn's probably waiting by my locker to disintegrate me."

"Quinn will get over it. Sw-Santana-" Brittany paused, unsure of whether it was appropriate to call Santana a pet name in the light of day. "We're all dealing with with the revelation of our past in different ways, and Quinn is Quinn, I've learned a long time ago not to take her crap to heart."

"I guess." Santana shrugged. "It's just...I don't know, she's my cosmic star sister, or whatever, so I need to put some time and effort into  _not_ pissing her off."

"Under her bitch exterior, I think she's really happy about you, and about Holly. This whole thing is crazy, but it still gives her some sort of family, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that." She heard the sound of Sam pulling up with the Prius at the end of the driveway, and Santana frowned. "I'll see you at school."

"I'll see you at school." Brittany repeated, and just as she went to open the passenger door, Santana pulled her in for one final, needy kiss.

"By the way, I loved that you called me  _sweetheart."_ Santana smiled, running a thumb affectionately over Brittany's blushing cheek. "You can call me that whenever you want."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely. I love it,  _baby."_

"I love that too." Brittany beamed, pulling reluctantly away from Santana, and sliding out of the car, giving one last wave over her shoulder as she climbed into the passenger seat of the Prius and Mercedes made her way down the driveway to the place Brittany had previously occupied.

* * *

"Hi, crazy ass." Mercedes pulled the driver's seat forward so she could read the pedals, and Santana immediately rolled her eyes, her Brittany softness sharpening just slightly.

"Hey,  _pain_ in my ass." She snapped back.

"Oh yeah, such a pain in your ass, sending your girlfriend out to make you feel better."

"Thank you, for that." Santana was sincere in her words, and Mercedes simply nodded. "I really needed her."

"Yeah, I know you did. You forget, I know pretty well how you operate."

"You do. So how bad was it after I left yesterday?"

"Hold back, or don't hold back?"

"Don't hold back, I need to be prepared." Santana swallowed hard. "On a scale of one to needing to find a spaceship back to enemy inhabited Uecridis, how pissed is my dad?"

"Well..." Mercedes hesitated, but Santana urged her to continue. "You should probably thank your mother, because they had a fight so loud in the back of the diner that I actually had to crank up the 80's rock to ear splitting levels to keep the whole town from hearing that a Roswell's princess may or may not be addicted to drugs.  _Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world_ has taken on a whole new meaning."

"Oh God."

"Yeah, I don't know exactly what happened, but your mom was screaming a lot in Spanish, and then Sara called at some point, apparently swearing up and down that you're not on drugs, so your mom relaxed a little, but..."

"But he's still pissed that I told him I wasn't going to that interview."

"He's maybe  _more_ pissed because you're not on drugs, so you actually meant what you said, instead of saying it in a meth fueled haze."

"God, he's such a fucking piece of work. Who's more angry about their daughter  _not_ being on drugs? And aren't you supposed to want better for your kids than yourself? Why can't he just let me live me life?"

"Okay, unpopular opinion time." Santana raised an eyebrow when Mercedes spoke, but that was the thing about their friendship, they told each other how it was, no matter what. "Look, your dad acted like a total jerk yesterday, not letting you talk, and assuming the worst in you, but I really do believe that he loves you the best way he knows how. And yeah, he's controlling, and you shouldn't have to listen to that, but-"

"'Ce, I know that he  _loves_  me. But he doesn't respect me at all. I can't live his dreams, I've pretended like I would for too long, but now everything's different, and now I just can't."

"Because of Brittany."

"Yes and no. I mean, I love her, and we're obviously going to be together, but it's also that I feel bigger somehow, you know? I'm not even saying it to be arrogant, because my whole life, even though I dreamed of getting out of here, of going to New York, or LA, or God, even Santa freaking Fe, I kind of just figured Roswell was it for me, I was destined to take over the diner for my dad, maybe marry some girl, hope selfishly that maybe you stuck around too. But now, with Brittany, and with everything that happened with Reyneva and Caderyna, I know the universe is so much bigger. I was the _queen of another planet,_ you know? Caderyna, Brittany, whatever, traveled across the universe to  _find me._ If that doesn't give me the courage to dream bigger than this small town, I don't know what will."

"You really are a different person than you were a few weeks ago."

"It's really hard to explain. I'm really damn confused about who I even am, but at the same time, it's clearer than anything I've ever known. Like, yesterday I freaked out because everything felt out of my control, but maybe I  _needed_ to, to start actually building a life, instead of just talking about it, or something, I don't know, I have no idea if I'm even making sense."

"You're making tons of sense. I can't imagine how finding out I was one of them would rattle me. Just knowing them is enough to make my head spin." Mercedes' lip curled up just the slightest at the end of that sentence, and Santana, ever intuitive, especially when it came to her best friend, knew something was up.

"Okay, spill."

"There's nothing to spill."

"Oh my God, you're so full of it." Santana's jaw dropped, as Mercedes' head dropped a little, her telltale sign of embarrassment. "Mercedes Celia Jones, you practically beat the details of me and Brittany out of me, what's going on with you and Trouty Mouth."

"Stop with the Trouty Mouth, Santana. That's your girlfriend's brother."

"And your point? Don't change the subject. You've been all up on those lips again, haven't you?"

"I saw him last night, when Quinn was...being Quinn and he asked me to come over there. Apparently the solution to Quinn freaking out was to give her something else to lose her mind over."

"Way to speak in code. It's not like you haven't already kissed, whatever, did he like, suck your head into his mouth this time?"

"Do you  _see_ why I didn't tell you right away? Is this going to happen every time we talk about this?" Mercedes rolled her eyes. "No he  _didn't_ suck my head into his mouth, bitch. I happen to like his lips, thank you."

"Wanky." Santana smirked, though really, all joking aside, she couldn't care less about Sam's lips. She had her own set of extraterrestrial lips, the most perfect lips in the universe, she thought, and that's all she needed. "So did you see stars yet, or what?"

"No, I didn't. It was just a regular kiss. A pretty damn good one, but I think those visions of far off planets are reserved for those actually  _from_ there."

"Hmm, too bad. So what's the deal? Are you two dating yet? Did he propose to you? He seems like the kind of guy that would do that, doesn't he?"

"You're one to talk, since you just found out that you and Brittany are basically married and you have a wedding necklace permanently clasped to your neck. No, he didn't propose, shut up, or I'm not telling you anything anymore."

"Like that would stop me from finding out. I've got an inside source. Ew, is this incest-y that we're dating siblings?"

"Okay, one, Sam and I aren't dating. So we kiss sometimes, that's it. Two, unless that Holly lady has more she hasn't told us, you and I aren't actually related, and even if we were, we're not dating each other."

"Please don't let Holly reveal any more siblings." Santana sighed, turning serious at the thought of Quinn, and how she hadn't really dealt with any of  _that_ yet.

"At least I'm lower maintenance then the one you already have."

"How bad was it?"

"Sam was really good at calming her down, and I talked to Kurt, so..."

"You talked to  _Kurt?"_ Santana pressed her thumbs into her temples to stave off the impending headache. "Wasn't I gone for twelve hours? How did a week's worth of crap go on?"

"Damage control." Mercedes's shrugged, pulling into the parking lot at school. "He didn't tell his father that you slapped him, so there's that."

"Probably embarrassed that he got hit by a girl." She muttered, picking at her cuticles.

"Apparently Roz talked to him, and he got ripped a new one once he told her the whole story about what happened. Hey dumbass, you could have probably prevented a lot of this had you remembered that she makes you guys take weekly drug tests so she doesn't get screwed at competitions."

"Oh..."

"Yeah. From what Kurt said, she told him he deserved the slap, and if he messes with her captain again,  _he's_ off the squad. Guess that means she's not taking your resignation."

"Well that'd too bad, because I meant it. I've got way more important shit going on than cheerleading."

"Don't be stupid, Santana."

"Excuse me?" Santana turned to face Mercedes, her eyebrows shooting up.

" _Normal,_ remember? You were pissed yesterday at Kurt, that's normal for what he did, you quit in a rage because Roz took his side, but today, you need to go eat your words, put that damn uniform again, shake your pompoms and do what it takes to keep everyone safe. Not going to your dad's school? That's fine, but you've been a cheerleader all through junior high and high school, you  _need_ to stay, and you know it."

With an aggravated huff, Santana opened the car door, absolutely  _hating_ how right Mercedes was. In order to keep them safe, to keep  _Brittany_ safe, she didn't have a choice. It wasn't like she hated cheerleading, quite the opposite, actually, she loved to dance, she loved to be the one in charge, but it had lost the allure it once had, the allure of making her feel like was  _was_ something. She hated having to grovel, she hated that she'd have to see Kurt with his judgmental eyes on her, and with a scowl, she slung her backpack over her shoulders as Mercedes hurried to catch up her. Rolling her eyes to herself as she watched her current enemy number two (since really, she couldn't knock his father down from the number one spot) strut his way into school. The scowl didn't leave her face until she saw a moppy head of blonde hair waving in Mercedes' direction, and she whipped her head around so fast that she could have broken her neck. It was sort of ridiculous, she thought, how one affectionate smile could effect her, but as blue eyes crinkled at her, she couldn't even internally complain, not when each and every thing she did served a greater purpose in keeping that girl she loved safe.

* * *

Brittany was distracted most of the morning. It was hard not to be, after the night she'd had with Santana, and especially each time a puff of air hit her midriff, reminding her of the too-small tanktop she wore and it's rightful owner, often only a few seats away from her, but too far to trail a finger up the outside of her thigh secretly, or to even look at without drawing attention. But she felt Santana's eyes of her, she felt the sly smirk of pouty lips when she'd shifted in her seat to hide the lacy panties that kept creeping out of the back of her jeans (how Santana wore them regularly, she would never know, but Brittany would  _definitely_ not be the one to complain), and she burned inside, wanting those eyes looking deep in hers, wanting to taste those lips on her own. When it finally came time for Spanish class, Brittany was glad that Santana wasn't in the class with her, and she put all her effort on focusing on the words that  _Se_ _ñ_ _or_ Martinez spoke, as difficult as it was for her not to picture Santana Lopez speaking those words in the sexy accent she'd only heard slip from her lips a few times, in the diner, long before she was  _her_ Santana. Once class was over, Brittany realized how unsuccessful she'd been, and felt more than a little flustered as she slunk into the hallway, an ever sulking Quinn a few steps behind her.

"Who are  _you?"_ Brittany heard a familiar voice ask, that inquisitive, vaguely judgmental chirp that had been making Santana crazy from the first moment she met her.

"Holly Holliday, substitute teacher extraordinaire, and hot bitch. And  _you_ are?" Both Brittany and Quinn froze, and then quickly started walking again, desperately attempting to keep from drawing attention to themselves as they reacted to Holly's voice, Holly's voice,  _in their school._ It sounded so different to them then it had in the desert, where there, she'd sounded very exotic, a hint, maybe, of some accent of Uecridis, in school, she sounded snarky, and so very, very human.

"Terri soon-to-be Ryan. Don't get used to me. This isn't a  _career_ for me. Once my Bryan and I tie the knot, I'll be damned if I  _work_ for a living. How long are  _you_ here for?"

"As long as it takes for Trisha Hatfield to get over a flu. Then I'm back in the great pool of subs."

"Sounds like a lower middle class blast." Terri snickered as Quinn finally made her way up to Brittany's side, lingering at a set of lockers fifteen feet from where Holly and Terri were speaking.

"You are just  _charming,_ aren't you?"

"My  _fianc_ _é_ thinks so. I don't really care what  _you_ think."

"Well great, I'm glad to have learned  _so_ much about you and the fact that you're getting married." The eye roll in Holly's tone was obvious, making Brittany hold in a laugh, thinking of how Santana had complained to her about how she  _never_ wanted to hear the word  _wedding_ again, after her "prison sentence" in the nurse's office was over. "I'm gonna go, before I'm late to my class, good luck with your wedding, Kerri."

"It's  _Terri."_ She shouted after Holly, but she was gone, down the hall and into the classroom that Brittany immediately recognized as Santana's seventh period. "Hmph, I don't know who she thinks she is, but I'm going to get to the bottom of  _this."_

"That's Santana's class." She whispered to Quinn, who was still staring down the hallway, and quickly fished her phone out of her backpack, afraid of how her girlfriend would react to her kind-of-sort-of mother in the front of her classroom, despite knowing that it was a possibility, at some point.

 _Just a heads up- Holly is subbing your lit class. Here if you need me. Love you._ Brittany quickly shot to Santana, holding the phone until it buzzed with a response.

THANK YOU! Will call you on my way to meet Roz after last period. Long story. Come over tonight? Heard from my mom-work til 10.

_Suddenly feel like a UFO burger ;) I'll give me the strength to climb through your window. Good luck, sweetheart._

Love you a lot.

"You look like an idiot when you smile at your phone like that." Quinn scoffed as Brittany slipped the device into her pocket. She was smiling at the words, but simultaneously feeling her stomach twist as Santana's anxiety pulsed through her veins, and her eyes snapped up at Quinn. "How's Lady Love? Has she laid the smack down on any of our other enemies today?"

"Can you stop?  _He_ isn't our enemy, his father is…maybe." Brittany hissed, balling her hands at her sides to circumvent the strange urge she had to shove Quinn in defense of Santana. "And she made a mistake because she was upset. I'm not talking about this again. She's your  _sister,_ why don't you stop hating her so much and actually take three seconds to get to know her?"

" _Reyneva_ was  _Azar_ _'_ _s_ sister. Don't pull this  _sister_ crap with me, Brittany. It doesn't change anything."

"Well maybe you should at least  _try._ _"_

"Right, because I see her putting so much effort into that. She's too wrapped up in you to even notice anything else."

"She's actually  _not._ She's scared, Quinn, why do you think she acted like she did yesterday? I'm safe for her, because her soul recognizes mine, she doesn't consciously choose me. The rest of it is really weird, but she's getting there. I know this is important to you, I know you've been waiting for something like this your whole life. You can tell me you don't care, or whatever else, but I know this matters."

"And what exactly do you want me to do? Go brush her hair and paint her nails? Make a scrapbook of all the time we never spent together?"

"You know, for someone who's always complaining about how human Sam and I are, sometimes you act like it the most."

"Excuse me?" Quinn jerked her head.

"You heard me, you're acting like an oversized baby with boobs. You hate me from another life, fine, but the reason you do is because you lost  _her._ We  _both_ lost her, even if we don't remember it. Why are you fighting this so much?" Brittany stared into Quinn's eyes, challenging, until it hit her, it her her like a ton of bricks, that the thing Quinn feared the most was the same thing she and Santana feared, that somehow, they'd lose each other again, and next time, they might never find their way back. "Quinn, we  _won't._ It's different now."

"I don't know what makes you so sure of that. Hummel's riding our asses, who the hell knows what happened in 1947 and if  _they_ are still hunting, and we know about three things about the technology of Uecridis. An evil race of people are in control there." Brittany heard Quinn's silent  _your_ behind the word  _an,_ but she appreciated, nonetheless, that she didn't  _say_ it. "We're sitting ducks."

"We're not sitting at all." Brittany tried to deflect, but Quinn would have none of it. "Holly's here now. We'll know more soon, but don't avoid Santana because you're afraid she's going to die. Sam talked me out of the exact same thing yesterday."

"When did  _Sam_ become the pillar of intelligence?"

"He's smart Quinn, when it counts."

"About as smart as you, kissing humans. I wonder if his'll turn out to be his long lost soulmate too."

"Probably not." Brittany's mouth quirked up. "From what he told me in five minutes this morning, it was good,  _human_ good, nothing like the magic that is me kissing-"

" _Don't_ need to hear about it, thanks. Your eyes are getting all glassy thinking about it."

"I love her, more than I ever knew it was possible. I mean, it is, but not like-" Brittany stopped herself with a shrug, not even blushing. "Just come to the diner with me tonight. I'll buy you a burger, even. It's not like you'll really be able to talk to her there anyway, but I'm telling you, you can learn a lot about Santana just by looking at her."

"So I've heard, in a disgustingly detailed way, for years. I'll come for the burger, we'll see about this  _building a relationship_ crap later."

* * *

Though Santana put on a pretty good front in her text messages to Brittany, she was actually sort of a nervous wreck when Holly Holliday-slash-Polerma from Uecridis-slash-her mother from another life breezed into the classroom. She felt like she could to look straight at her, lest she give away the myriad emotion that swirled within every fiber of her being. Holly's eyes were on her, she could tell, but she couldn't look up from where she mindlessly scrawled notes in her spiral book, the heavy handedness of the pen in her left hand nearly tearing through the pages. It was strange, she thought, how  _this_ Holly's voice differed from the Holly she'd met in the desert (her thoughts running the same train as Brittany's), and it was strange how she was just there, in front of her class, teaching about Archduke Franz Ferdinand, as if she didn't hold a plethora of secrets that she, Brittany and the others couldn't wait to get their hands on.

Whenever Holly got close to her, since she apparently walked around the classroom while teaching, Santana felt like she was going to spontaneously combust, and not in the way she felt like that around Brittany. It stirred something inhuman within her, something that somehow made her feel anxious and sated all at once, and her fingers tapped against the desk as she tried to keep from reaching into her bag to find her phone again and feel technologically connected to Brittany. She had just about made it through the class, tuning out the inanity of her classmates and focusing solely on the notes in her paper (and maybe absently scrawling a  _BP_ and some hearts in the corner, because thinking of Brittany did help to center her), when she felt Holly pause beside her desk, and her fingers tickled they grazed over her paper. Though she jolted a little, and nearly fell out of her seat, surprised what what appeared, Santana looked down, reading the words that had appeared there, under Holly's touch.  _Tomorrow. 6pm. Same place,_ before they disappeared just as quickly. Santana sat stunned, even as the bell rang, and the room emptied, leaving her alone with the blank page.

"Fuck." She hissed, her eyes pricking with strange tears. It was happening again, it was  _still_ happening, and though she was working on it, she still was unsure how much of her past she could come to accept. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

* * *

It was an effort, surely, not to have a repeat of the day before, but after sending a coded message to Brittany about the note from Holly, Santana somehow managed. When her last class was over, and she made a few seconds of intense eye contact with Brittany, the kind that actually made her skin flush, and her chin tuck down, because it was so much to take, Santana brushed off Mercedes' offers to wait for her, and went into the bathroom to flush Holly's note down the toilet, and swallowing her pride, she trudged toward Roz Washington's office. Making her way into the locker room, the gossipy snickers ceased immediately at her presence, and the cheerleaders parted like the Red Sea, allowing Santana through, though she knew their word would turn to her the moment she closed that glass door behind her.

"Coach, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Damn right you can, Lopez, shut the door and shut your mouth, I've got a few things to say to you first." Roz snapped, and Santana bit her tongue so hard, she was sure she drew blood. Once he door was closed, she took her usual spot across from the desk, and she tried, without luck, to grab hold of the pendant below her shirt without detection. "Let's start with this. This is probably the first and last time you're going to hear me say this, but I want to apologize to you, for not letting you speak yesterday-"

"Thank you, I-"

"Not done.  _That_ being said, what in the hell is wrong with you, Lopez? I've seen your salsa caliente come out before, but never let that. You think you can just walk around slapping your teammates? Why didn't you come to  _me,_ and let  _me_ deal with Hummel? You know I woulda taken your damn side. I  _always take_ your damn side, because you're the best one I've got."

"Obviously." She rolled her eyes, and tugged her fingers through her ponytail.

"And what are you doing that's got your father calling me at two in the morning, asking me of you're ass is on drugs?"

"Kurt's been up my ass since I fell of the pyramid. His dad's got him all nuts in the head about drugs, and he thinks he's going to be my fairy godfather and save me from a life of nose candy, I guess, I don't know. I told my dad I wasn't going to UNM, and he lost his shit and told him Kurt went to see him."

"And then you quit my squad, because  _that_ looks like the behavior of a  _normal_ person."

"Gimme a cup right now, Roz, I'll piss in it and you can see I'm clean." Santana pushed herself up in the chair, the vein in her neck throbbing, and her mind chanting  _Brittany, Brittany, Brittany_ over and over again.

"Sit your ass back down, Snix. And save that tone for the squad. I'm on your side, I just want to know what the hell you're doing, and if it's going to screw up my chances for another national championship."

"No." She mumbled, picking at her cuticles. "It's nothing. Everything's the same as it's always been, as long as Hummel keeps his porcelain nose outta my damn business. I wanna take back my resignation."

"Good, 'cuz I was going to haunt you until you said that. Get your crap together, get yourself cleared by the doctor, and get your crazy ass back on my field."

"Friday, Coach." Santana nodded, clenching her jaw.

"Then I want you at the game that night. You know the routine like the back of your hand, and this squad needs to see you've still got it. Wilde is chomping at the bit for a chance to take over as captain, and you know she's not above pulling a  _Showgirls_ on you, so don't show weakness."

"Please, me? Weak? She better watch her ass or I'll-"

"Get out of here, I don't want to hear what you're gonna do to her, just stay on your game so it's not an issue."

* * *

It took Brittany almost an hour to get ready to go to the diner, though she ended up in just jeans and an off the shoulder sweater, hair pulled back in a ponytail, but she was strangely nervous about it. It wasn't as if she hadn't been there a million times in her life, but being there as Santana's girlfriend, even if no one knew, felt different. Sure, Santana's parents were unaware of who she was at that moment in time, but Brittany hoped, no, she  _knew_ that wouldn't always be the case. Someday, Hopefully someday soon, she'd meet them, officially, Santana would meet  _her_ parents, and when those things happened, Brittany didn't want the Lopezes to think of her as some kind of sloppy mess.

"Are you  _ready_ yet?" Quinn groaned. "I'm starving, and you're acting like Cinderella going to the ball. It's the  _diner._ What are you, getting ready for the day when you're Mrs. Lopez, and you two have magical burger flipping babies together?"

"I-no." Brittany stammered, though she flushed at the words  _Mrs. Lopez,_ and the thought of tiny little babies toddling around the diner- a thought that immediately pinched her heart, remembering Caderyna and Reyneva and their baby that never was _._ "That's not what she wants to do. But if it was…"

"You're ridiculous. Can we just go, please? Is Sam coming, or is he trying to get in the other one's pants?"

"Can you please stop calling Mercedes  _the other one?_ You know her name. Sam's going to the movies with my dad. I'm ready, let's go."

With Quinn behind her, Brittany headed downstairs, finding her mom sitting on the couch watching re-runs of  _Chopped_ and flipping through some paperwork from the office. When the girls came in, she quickly muted the television, and put down what she was doing to focus her attention on them.

"Are you girls headed out?" Susan Pierce looked slightly crestfallen, and Brittany couldn't help but frown a little in response.

"Yeah, we were just going to head to the Intergalactic Diner and grab some burgers. Is that okay, mom?"

"Of course, you kids and that diner, I'm not sure what it is that I'm missing over there…I was just going to see if you wanted to order some Chinese and catch up on the last three weeks of  _New Girl_ on the DVR with me, since your dad and Sam are out, but don't worry, go, have fun."

"No, mom, we don't have to, if you-"

"No, no, don't be silly, honey. I don't want you to change your plans."

"Well you could come with us, if you wanted." Brittany found herself saying, surely to Quinn's ire, because the other girl really didn't know how to act around adults, particularly the Pierces, who always wanted to hug her.

"You don't have to invite me, Britty, surely you don't want to be the only one there who's  _mom_ came to join them."

"No, mom, I'd really like if you came." Brittany shrugged her shoulders a little, happy at how her mom lit up, and even happier, really, that she'd have her around Santana.

"You don't mind, Quinn?"

"No, it's cool. It's not like we're exactly at the height of the social hierarchy, so-" Quinn started then stopped herself when Brittany glared at her. "Totally fine with me."

Susan was nearly giddy, getting in the driver's seat of her car, and Brittany felt bad about not being around to do things with her, since things had become chaotic with Hummel, and Holly, and her relationship with Santana, but she was glad for this, even though she knew Quinn wasn't thrilled in the backseat. The truth was though, Brittany needed a distraction, Brittany needed to  _not_ hear Quinn talk about what would or wouldn't happen in the desert the next day, or her various paranoid theories on Hummel videotaping them in the shower, or an evil legion of tiny purple men coming down to murder them, or, whatever it was that Quinn was saying, Brittany had sort of started tuning her out when she got more raving than usual. Susan Pierce would definitely be that distraction, as she chirped on and on in the front seat, asking both girls about school, teasing them about whether or not they were dating anyone (making Quinn hide her snicker, and Brittany hide her blush). When they pulled into the available parking spot across from the diner, and Brittany got out, she could see Santana sashaying around the dining room, and she couldn't keep the grin off her face, until Quinn elbowed her in the ribs.

"Alright girls, show me where you sit. I haven't been in here since you and Sammy finally were old enough to come on your own. Your dad and I have since expanded our date night repertoire from burgers and milkshakes."

"They still make the best ones." Brittany beamed, like she had some personal pride in Santana's family's food.

"Well, I'll be the judge of that." Susan slid into the booth that Quinn had led them back to, leaving a space for Brittany to sit beside her. "So Quinn, how's Judy?"

While Quinn gave clipped answers to Susan's questions, Brittany let her eyes follow Santana, and then drift to the counter, where her father seemed to be watching her closely. She could feel that Santana felt it, she could feel that Santana was irritated by it, but her smile never faltered, not as she grazed her fingers over the tabletops of her customers, checking on them, before strutting across the floor, and making Brittany's heart pound wildly in her chest when she approached the table.

"Welcome to the Intergalactic Diner, where the food is out of this world." Santana gave her standard line, setting three menus down, trying to keep her eyes off of Brittany, and to smile directly at Susan Pierce, feeling her stomach erupt in a swarm of butterflies at seeing Brittany's mom. "I'm Santana, and I'll be your server tonight."

"Hi, Santana." Susan chirped. "No need for the formality, it may have been awhile since I've seen you, but I've known you since you were sitting up on that counter in your carseat, long before I even had my own kids in my life. My, you certainly have grown up, haven't you?"

"Yes, ma'am." She tried not to blush, and Brittany sort of just melted at her sweetness, letting her fingers sort of creep surreptitiously along the table, until just the very tips brushed the outside of Santana's hand. At the contact, Santana felt her whole body stiffen, desperately failing at keeping herself from reacting physically to Brittany's touch. "I'm…in the same class at school as Brittany, Sam and Quinn."

"Right, I always forget you're all the same age. And please, call me Susan, I've known your father since we were far younger than you."

"Well, Susan, it's nice to officially meet you." Santana extended her right hand, the one Brittany was  _not_ still touching, to Susan Pierce, her secret girlfriend's mother, and she smiled warmly as the woman took it in both of hers. "I see…" She waves her hand to indicate Brittany and Quinn. "Here all the time, but I guess we don't really know each other that well."

"That's an absolute shame."

"It is, isn't it?" Santana couldn't help the smirk that comes to her lips, and Quinn is on the verge of hysterics in her seat, until Brittany kicks her hard under the table. "So, let me tell you about our specials for the night. We've got a Crashdown Chili, a Morphing Meatloaf platter, and Galaxy Sub. I'll give you a few minutes to look at the menu, but let me get you started with something to drink. Two Cokes…and?"

"Three Cokes." Susan amended, watching as Santana shimmied away from the table, before turning her attention to Brittany.

"Look at her, knowing your drink orders. She is absolutely  _adorable,_ isn't she?"

"Mhmm." Brittany hummed, noncommittal, and Quinn snickered again.

"Seems like she'd like to get to know you more, doesn't it? You should hang out with her, Brittany, she's into girls, isn't she? I'm going to give her your number."

"Mom!" Brittany buried her face in her hands, mortified. "She's the head cheerleader and the most popular girl in school. Don't give her my number! Weren't you the one worrying about embarrassing us?"

"That's not embarrassing. She's a pretty girl, you're a pretty girl, both of you like girls, I see nothing wrong here."

"Mama, please." Brittany begged, but had sort of come to smile, hidden from her mother, about the fact that she liked Santana.

"Brittany totally thinks she's hot." Quinn shrugged. "I have to hear about it  _all the time._ _"_

"Aw, baby, you have a crush on her."

" _Everyone_ has a crush on her."

"I don't." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Okay, everyone who likes  _girls_ has a crush on her."

"Sam doesn't."

" _Not_ helping, Quinn." Brittany snapped, and Susan just chuckled.

"Relax, honey, I won't do anything to embarrass you. But I think she's cute, and she knows your drink order, so maybe she's interested in you too."

"Can we just…look at the menu and order, please?"

"But Brittany, Santana already knows your order." Quinn pointed out, and though Brittany was never violent, she was about three seconds from strangling the other girl, as her mother just laughed, entirely amused, since she never caught a glimpse of her daughter so besotted.

"Just don't sell yourself short, Britty, you're quite the catch, and most popular girl in school or not, the Lopez girl would be lucky to have you."

Brittany brushed it of, she  _had_ to, or else she'd lose it, thinking how lucky she was to have Santana as her girlfriend, luck that had absolutely  _nothing_ to do with Santana's popularity, or cheerleading, or anything else but the fact that they'd found each other through space and time. Inside, she was exploding with joy about her mother approving of Santana, and she let her mind wander to the days where she'd be able to bring her over for dinner, where they could curl up on the couch together for family movie night, or team up together for game night. It was funny, she thought, how  _that_ was what she looked forward to the most. They'd had something like that once before, she'd figured, in that life so long ago, probably doing…whatever the Uecridian equivalent of that was, with Polerma, and Azar, and Oskari, before they'd lied together in bed, talking about their hopes and dreams, and still, that was the strangest thing to Brittany. It was the strangest, because though they'd lived before, though they'd done this all on another planet, in another way, it was still what Brittany looked forward to the most. Not the sex (though it was glorious), not the intense, heated kisses (though they were also just as glorious), but just  _being,_ just holding Santana, laughing with Santana, sharing her with the people who meant the most to her.

* * *

The meal itself was uneventful, though Santana's insistence on touching Brittany's hand on the table, or brushing a stockinged calf with Brittany's when she leaned in to drop the food drove her absolutely wild, and the teasing of Quinn and Susan (which Santana  _did_ overhear, and tried to hide her amusement, though it made her bloom inside) left the alien girl particularly squirmy. After Susan left Santana an absurdly large tip, and they all bid her goodbye, they dropped Quinn off at home, and the two Pierce women ended up watching the DVRed episodes of their show. It was after ten, when they'd finished, and once Sam and Evan came home from their movie, Brittany excused herself for bed, and jumped quickly into the shower, before pulling her wet hair into a messy bun and throwing on sweatpants and a t-shirt to sneak over to Santana's. Climbing up the ladder on the side of the diner never failed to give Brittany anxiety, like Hummel, or Santana's father, or some random citizen of Roswell who'd grown paranoid watching movies about home invades would shoot her. But once she reached the candlelit balcony, where Santana was sprawled out on a lounge chair in spaceship printed pajama pants, thumbing through her European history textbook, Brittany calmed, and a smile spread across her face.

"Hi." She spoke softly, not wanting to alarm Santana with her presence. "Nice pants."

"Hey." Santana looked up from her book at Brittany. "Not my fault that my entire life has been a series of alien gag gifts. Greatest irony of all time."

"I don't know, I'm not sure that  _quite_ surpasses your dad owning a  _restaurant_ that's alien themed." Brittany laughed, sitting down on the lounge chair and stealing one of Santana's hand. "Doing homework?"

"Reading about the powder keg that started World War I. I…kind of didn't focus on what was happening in class."

"I can see that." Brittany teased, pointing down to their initials scrawled in Santana's notebook and causing her to blush. Totally taken by just how sweet something so simple was, she leaned over and caught Santana's lips in a gentle kiss. "Are you okay?"

"I am. I mean, I was totally freaked out when those words appeared on my paper, because you don't really use your abilities,  _especially_ in public, but we're going to find out more about where we come from, so I'm okay, I think."

"In it together, right?" Brittany reached for Santana's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Always." She slid over on the lounger, making room for Brittany to come lie beside her, here she could drape an arm over her stomach and rest her head on her chest, letting Brittany hold her close. "So, your mom…"

"Wanted to give you my phone number."

"Really?" Santana laughed.

"Really. My mother tried to hook me up with my own girlfriend. She really liked you a lot."

"I hardly even got to talk to her, besides asking if she wanted coleslaw, and convincing her to order desert."

"Well, mom really  _does_ love blueberry pie, and you bringing it over on the house? That means you're a  _total_ keeper."

"She's easy to please, isn't she?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Brittany smiled softly, trailing her fingers over the smooth skin on Santana's arms. "I think she also thinks we're going to be like a Taylor Swift song."

"Taylor Swift wrote a song about  _soul bonded mates from a far away planet?_ Wow, I  _totally_ missed out on her new album."

"I know you didn't." She teased, poking Santana's ribs. "I've flipped through your iPod when you pass out on me early. You have every single one. Plus, I'm not sure you remember, since we've confessed a ton of stuff since then, but you've actually told me this before."

"Whatever, I'm a fan, don't tell anyone, you'll ruin my rep."

"I wouldn't dare. You keep all my secrets, I'll keep yours."

"Sounds like a deal to me. So your mom really liked me?" Santana's voice was soft and small, and Brittany kissed the top of her head.

"She did. I can't wait until it's safe enough for her to meet you for real."

"Britt? Do you think it's ever going to be safe enough?" She tilted her head up, looking into Brittany's eyes. "For us, for  _you?"_

"I wish I knew the answer. Quinn thinks we never will, she thinks that the whole universe is zeroing in on us, and that they...that Hummel is nothing, compared to my _family,_ like, they know we're not dead or something."

"They're not your family." Santana kissed the underside of Brittany's jaw and tucked herself further into the safest place she'd ever known, taking the pendant out from under her shirt and turning it over in her hand. "We may not know all that much about our life then, but I know for sure that whatever genetic ties you have to the creatures that...killed Reyneva and made the rest of you leave were severed by this. You and I, Caderyna and Reyneva, this thing we have, that means I'm your family. You came how ever many lightyears, or however they really measure space travel, to find me, to come  _home_ to me. No matter what else we learn, no matter who might come looking for us, that doesn't change. You, Brittany Pierce, have me, and you have Sam, you have Quinn, you have Holly, who helped you get back to me, and you have your mom and dad here. The murderers who took over our planet will  _never_ be your family."

"Sometimes I feel like I could singlehandedly kill them all for what they took from us."

"We'll have it all again someday." Santana promised, understanding full well what Brittany was alluding to, and had no hesitation, even at seventeen, to make a promise like that. "But I might want to take you on a real date before all that."

"You want to take me on a date?"

"Well, some woman left me a huge tip tonight, with the instructions  _use it to take a pretty girl out to dinner."_

"She didn't."

"She did. And although she didn't give me your number, I'm pretty sure she had a  _very_ specific pretty girl in mind, a girl who happens to be the most beautiful one I've ever seen. Probably has something to do with magic alien genes, or something."

"I guess you got some of them too then." Brittany lowered her eyelids, but didn't tear them away from Santana. "I'd love to go on a date with you."

"Good, you would have broken my heart if you said no. I was thinking, Friday, I have to be at the game, since I went crawling back to Roz..."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I'm just trying to keep things normal. I talked to 'Cedes this morning, she thinks it's the best idea, and she's probably right."

"You don't have to do that. You were really serious about quitting yesterday, and I don't want you to do something that makes you unhappy."

"It doesn't, I promise. It's dumb, but I actually like cheerleading. And Roz took my side, so now I'll just play a little nicer with Kurt, and we're all good, at least with that. But  _anyway,_ I was hoping maybe you'd come watch me, and even though my father probably still won't be speaking to me by then, he'll assume I have parties and stuff to go to, and I'll take you to dinner in Carlsbad, where no one knows us. We can just be Santana and Brittany, no alien stuff, no worrying about over-invested law enforcement, for one night."

"That's the best idea I've ever heard." Brittany beamed. "I'm also really, really excited to see you cheer."

"I'm excited for you to see me too." Santana yawned. "I guess we should go to bed. It's been a seriously long day, and tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow's going to be even longer."


	15. In Every Life

All throughout the school day, Brittany fidgeted in her seat, anxious to be through, anxious to be out in the desert, anxious to know just what it was that Holly Holliday, or, her...sort-of mother-in-law…had to share with them. She knew that she wasn't alone in her anxiety, she knew that Santana had tossed and turned in her sleep the whole night before, she knew that there were probably massive craters outside Quinn's from blowing up whatever she could to temper her emotions while everyone else was sleeping, she knew that Sam, being Sam, had probably whispered his concerns late the night before through the phone to Mercedes. They knew who they were and where they'd come from, but really, there was so much more to learn, so many more questions they'd once assumed they'd never get the answers to, until they'd tracked down Holly, and until she was willing to finally answer them.

When the last bell of the day rang, Brittany was out of her seat in a flash, only allowing herself the quickest glance in Santana's direction. They'd be together once they were out of Roswell, Santana and Mercedes would drive together, and Brittany would drive Sam and Quinn, but it felt strange to her, heading separately into their entwined future, strange enough that once she'd made it to the parking lot, she couldn't help herself but to pull out her phone to send an  _I love you_ text message to her girlfriend,  _only_ to find that she was already the recipient of one that said exactly the same thing. On the drive out to the rock formation where they were to meet Holly, even Quinn was silent, picking at her cuticles in the back seat, words not even at the tip of her tongue. Outside the window, the clouds hung low and dark in the sky, a fall storm brewing somewhere in the distance, and Brittany considered that, as she followed the road ahead of her, finally swerving off and out into the vast expanse of ruddy dirt before her.

Somehow, Mercedes and Santana had beaten them there, and Santana, wearing an unapologetically short dress sat on the hood of Mercedes car, tanned legs crossed, hair blowing across her face in the wind. Brittany swallowed hard at the sight of her, thoughts that she knew she should keep at bay swirling through her head, thoughts that made her involuntarily lick her lips, before she shook them away, and caught Santana's smirk, knowing exactly what effect she had on her alien girl. Though she was enjoying the teasing, Santana waited barely a minute until she was up and at Brittany's side, wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her softly, softly on the lips, their muffled  _hello_ _'_ _s_ and  _I missed you's_ inaudible to the rest of the group. It was the sound of an engine in the distance that drew their lips apart, and, as she always did, Brittany kept a protective arm around Santana (and her brother, around Mercedes, she noted) as the three of them positioned themselves to be able to take down any threat against them. When a Jeep pulled up beside the other two vehicles, and wild blonde hair came into sight, Brittany felt herself relax, but only slightly, and the tension in Santana's muscles unraveled at the sight before them. Pulling her hair off of her face, Holly approached them, standing across from the five who'd already gathered.

 _"Hola, clase."_ She greeted them as she did her classes in school, trying, Brittany figured, to keep the tone light, but falling more than a little short. There was almost a visible shift that occurred in front of them after that, where her face never changed, but somehow, from Holly, she became Polerma, and inexplicably, it made Brittany draw Santana a little closer. "Right down to business then, okay. It's very strange to me, you know, this unfamiliarity with me that comes from each of you, when I know you all so well."

"You know us in another life." Sam corrected, looking to his sister. "We aren't the same beings that came from Uecridis."

"I beg to differ on that." Holly told them cooly. "You may have these human interests and desires, but what is at the essence of your being means far more than that. It's the reason Cader-, er, Brittany was able to recognize Santana deep within her, it's the reason the pendant will lie on Santana's throat won't kill her. We are who we are, eternally, no matter the body we inhabit, our deepest feelings are the same, our reactions are the same, the other things, those are secondary, and though they manifest in different ways, still reflect our inner selves."

"Holly, we've spent days convincing ourselves that we aren't doomed. What you're saying sounds a lot like you're telling us that history is going to repeat itself." Brittany felt Santana's thumb making circles on the inside of her wrist as she spoke, and she squeezed her hand in response, a silent  _thank you_.

"It's the contrary, actually." Holly corrected. "What I'm saying is that those fibers of your internal makeup remember everything from our hone, they remember the visceral reactions each of you had to the first act of war from our enemies, and they've adapted so that you are prepared to fight in the event of a threat. We were sitting ducks then, we won't be now."

"I'm sorry, do you wanna repeat that in English?" Mercedes asked, feeling brazen enough to partake in the discussion.

"Quinn and Sam have yet to realize the full extent of their abilities, but they're lying dormant inside of you both, just as Brittany's lied dormant until the need to heal rose up within her."

"A baby bird, when I was nine." Brittany remembered, and Santana closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the Brittany she only knew from afar those years ago, taking an animal in her hands and saving him. "But Santana is the only  _person_  that I've ever…"

"What each of you are able to do reflects what you couldn't, on Uecridis. Brittany, you are the healer, because you couldn't save the life of your own mate. Sam, you are the warrior, because you wanted your whole life to be able to fight. Quinn, you are the protector, because though a little misguided, all you ever sought was to keep your family safe."

"The protector? So, what, Brittany can bring people back to life, Sam can shoot lasers out of his eyes, or whatever, and I can, what? Build a bomb shelter?"

"I don't know how your powers will manifest, all I know is that they will, when they become necessary."

"Holly." Santana's voice cracked a little when she started to speak, almost molding herself into Brittany's body. "The way you say that still makes it sound like we're preparing for a war."

"Because the last time, we  _weren_ _'_ _t._ Whether the threats against you are human or alien, you need to be prepared."

"Human, as in Hummel?" Sam asked her, and Santana noticed, before anyone else, the way Holly sucked in a breath.

"I believe, though I'm not entirely certain, that as of right now, Burt Hummel may be the very least of our human problems."

"I'm sorry,  _what?"_ Santana nearly shrieked. "The  _least_ of our problems? He point blank accused Brittany of a murder committed in 1947, and murder that-"

"You can say it." Holly clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth when Santana faltered, a strange, white hot fear flaring up within her. "A murder that I committed. I killed  _seven_ people that day, five men and two women, four of which were not much older than you are now. I brought my hand to their throats and I took the life from their bodies, but I did it because they got too close to you. But, what would have happened to you...to all of us, what  _did_ happen to Yiofre, would have been a fate far worse. I am not sorry for the deaths of those people, I will never be sorry, because I was protecting my family. But for all these years, I've been in hiding from the United States Army, from the Federal Bureau of Investigation and their special branch that was designed  _specifically_ to investigate our crash and the existence of extraterrestrial life on this planet, and much like his father, I am certain that Burt Hummel wouldn't hesitate to get them involved if he believes there is something going on right under his nose. The local sheriff is just one man with a Glock 22, any one of you could take him down easily. It's the others you have to worry about, they have weapons beyond your wildest imagination."

"And they're..." Quinn started, but couldn't bring herself to finish.

"I have reason to believe that they're working undercover again here in Roswell. I don't know who, and I don't know where, but, at risk of quoting  _The X-Files,_ trust no one, outside of the six of us."

"I, I need to say something." Brittany looked at Holly, and held Santana closer to her just in case. "I want to trust you, Holly, I do, because it seems like your story adds up with the memories Santana has, and the little that the rest of us recall, but, how are we to know that we can trust you? Maybe this is paranoid behavior, but, we sought you out  _after_ the shooting in the diner, what if this is all a trap? What if the information you have was taken from the  _real_ Polerma, we haven't even seen that you have any of the same abilities as us."

"Britt, I have, remember?" Santana whispered in Brittany's ear, inaudible to everyone else, not entirely surprised by Brittany's concern, because her girl was cautious like that, and knowing, though Brittany had not spoken of it, that she'd weighed every possible risk in her head of each and every person they came in contact with. "The note."

"I know." Brittany murmured back. "I just...I need to be be sure we are safe, that  _you_ are safe. This is too important, I can't make a misstep, not after the last time, I just...can't."

"I understand." She nodded. "And I love you."

"You're wise not to trust me." Holly broke Brittany and Santana from their hushed discussion. "But what I have to show you will hopefully prove to you that I'm who I say that I am. Come with me."

It shocked Brittany, the way that Sam and (especially) Quinn both deferred to her, waiting for the small nod, telling them that they would go. Brittany took a firm grip on Santana's hand as they took lead in following Holly up the barely worn path, toward the large rock formation that loomed before them. With a quick glance over her shoulder, Santana noticed the way Quinn, taking up the rear, kept her eyes on any possible escape route, should the need for one arise, and she nodded a small gratitude toward the one who was newly labeled as their protector. When Holly approached a flat area hidden by brush among the rough stone, and she pressed the palm of her hand to the stone surface, someone, Mercedes, possibly, gasped out loud as the stone slid away, like a doorway, and revealed the interior of a cave.

"Stay behind me?" Brittany pressed her lips to Santana's ear, almost a plea, and Santana nodded, falling back between she and Sam, but not releasing her hold on Brittany's hand as she tilted her head back to the other four, mouthing to them. " _If anything happens, run like hell."_

Holly stood in the center of the cave, when the others came to join her, and it seemed to house nothing more than a small cot and several dozen books. Though it gave no impression of being threatening, the three alien beings still remained on high alert, while Santana and Mercedes remained as close as possible to Brittany and Sam. Holly gave them a moment to adjust to the low light, then using the same method she had outside, opened a hole in back wall of the cave, and they followed her into another room, one lit in sickly yellow.

"What is...?" Brittany began, but didn't bother to finish, when she saw the three sac like chambers that lined the back wall.

"I'll give you a moment." Holly nodded, stepping back through the hole, and leaving them alone to process.

"This is real." Quinn confirmed immediately upon Holly's departure. "I don't remember it, but I know I've been here before."

"Yeah." Sam stepped back and took in what was in front of him. "I have no idea how we got out of here, but…"

"Britt, baby, what is this place?" Santana asked, trying to read the flurry of emotions that ran through her, the emotions that came solely from Brittany and latched on to every fiber of her being.

"It's...it's where we were born, reborn, hatched, whatever it is." She closed her eyes for a moment, sucking in a deep breath, concentrating on the weight of Santana's hand in her own, trying to be a leader, since for the first time, Quinn and Sam both were allowing her to be. "Holly is who she says she is. There is no more doubt in my mind."

"Brittany." Santana looked to her, taking her other hand and turning her body so they stood across from each other.

"I'm okay." She stiffened her back and met Santana's eyes. "I'm just, looking at this, thinking how improbable and lucky it was that we made it to this planet alive. Holly is the one who saved us, on this planet,  _and_ our last."

"So you think that we should trust her then?" Quinn asked, and Brittany turned her attention from Santana to look at Quinn, Sam and Mercedes.

"Yes. We trust her with our lives."

Santana found herself unable to break from the trance she'd sort of fallen under at the sight before her, staring at the webbed casing, staring at the mechanism that had brought the other half of her soul to her side. Her hands wa inexplicably drawn to the first of the pods, and she ran her fingers delicately over the pliable outside, feeling the gelatinous material that oozed a little from within, and then stopped when she brushed something hard, and her entire body sparked. Drawn by an invisible force, Santana sunk her whole hand into the gel, and dug through, wrapping her fingers around the most familiar of forms and feeling her heart burn and hammer in her chest as she pulled upward, freeing what she sought from it's confines.

"Britt." Santana wasn't even sure she'd spoken her name out loud, electricity buzzed through her, and she clutched at the source of blue heat between her breasts through her shirt. Almost instantly, Brittany was at her side, encouraging Santana to unfurl her finger and show her what she already knew was there. "It's..."

"The other one...mine."

* * *

 _The sun was low in the sky, almost dipping below visibility, and the sky was turning the deepest indigo as the rainbow stars rose. Anticipation crackled in the air, as if it were a physical entity, and Caderyna walked, her brother at her side, toward the place where they would all meet. It had been too many hours since she'd seen Reyneva last, more, perhaps, than she'd spent apart from her since her early days at the palace, and her skin itched and jumped, a physical need for her always present. It was to be expected, she knew, from Reyneva's long explanations of soul bonding (though, truly, Caderyna no longer needed them, her own feelings toward her lover were proof enough) but still, it was strange to her, how difficult it was to go even a_ single  _hour without seeing her, touching her, breathing her in, let alone multiple. She couldn't wait until her betrothed was at her side again, she couldn't wait until they completed their joining, and were back in each other's embrace._

_"Cady, you're sure this is what you want, right?" Oskari asked his sister, stopping to take her hand and look into her wide dark eyes. "I know you care for her, but this is an eternal commitment, and I don't want you to do such a thing because you think it's what's best for us."_

_"Kari, I know it's impossible for you to understand this from the outside, and I thank you for not being as vocal about is as Azar is, but, I more than_ care for  _her, I so much more than care for her. It's like, she runs through me, every moment of every day. Without her in the fibers of my being, I feel like maybe I would cease to exist. The love I feel for her, it's more real than the stars in the sky or the sand beneath our feet. She's my everything, from the moment I met her, even before I understood what was happening to me, it was like everything just clicked into place, it was like I wasn't even real before she was at my side. I'm not committing to her eternally today, because I already did that. I committed eternally to her before I ever knew her, and maybe before I was even born. Her soul and mine, they're wound so tightly together that I don't know where mine ends and her's begins. Today, we will stand up and make it official, but it's only because it's the thing we are supposed to do, and it's only because in doing so, in exchanging these pendants, we'll be offering each other eternal_ protection.  _Reyneva is already my bedmate, my love, my partner, in this life, and any other. Formalities don't make this any more real for me."_

_"This world we're in now, it's so different than the one we came from, Cady. We were brought up not knowing that this thing that set us apart from the others were souls, and now here you are, soulbonded, something that seems like the work of fantasy tales."_

_"I don't think even the greatest story tellers could put into words what it is I feel for her."_

_"Well then, I'm happy for you." Oskari nodded, always his sister's biggest supporter, much as she was his. "Today you'll become queen."_

_"Today I'll become queen." She repeated. "I'm glad though, that only you, Polerma and Azar will be present for this. I'm glad that Neva is breaking the tradition of her crown and keeping this from being a public affair."_

_"She knows you well, my sister." He let a smile come to his mouth. "She knows that you're not one for publicity, because even when we were raised to be...what we were raised to be, we were still kept in the shadows, and we were still taught to be silent."_

_"It's not that I want to hide though, it's not, it's just that, I think she and I, and what we have, it's too special to make a spectacle of. The waterfall, it's where we met, away from the eyes of everyone else, and it only makes sense for us to continue this journey at that very place."_

_"You're quite the romantic."_

_"You could learn a bit from me." Caderyna ribbed him a bit. "Find a girl of your own, be she your soulmate or not."_

_"The only girl I know is Azar, and she's certainly not the one for me."_

_"She'd eat you alive." Cady laughed, shaking her head. "I feel for the ones she brings home, I'm always afraid she'll rip them to emotional shreds."_

_"Sometimes I wonder if she has a soul herself."_

_"She does." Caderyna shook off the notion, turning serious. "She just guards herself, she's cautious, I understand it, but perhaps someday, there will be someone who makes her throw all caution away so she can feel even a fraction of what her sister and I feel for each other."_

_"Well, that one won't be me. But perhaps you're right, perhaps I should seek out the company of others."_

_"I'd advise it. It would do you well, taking a break from your studies and enjoy yourself."_

_"There's still much I have to lean about this world, Cady. It's amazing to me that I can feel so foolish about a place that's only a few days walk from where we gone from."_

_"Truly a world away though." Caderyna sighed, never choosing to think of the place they came from, the place where she'd been raised thinking her only duty in life was to kill the one whom she now loved so wholly and completely. "Embrace it, Kari, there's so much more to learning than there is in those books. Most of what I know, I've learned at Neva's side, and she's been my best possible teacher."_

_"So you've said." Oskari's antennae quirked, and Caderyna shoved him playfully. "I'll think about it, but first let's worry about getting you to meet your queen on time."_

_Reyneva arrived at their meeting place first, attended by her mother and sister, and fussing with the material of the dress garment she'd chosen, fixing the crown she only wore for ceremonial occasion on her head. It didn't matter, truly, what she wore, her Caderyna had seen her in far simpler clothing, and in nothing at all, but still, she'd wanted to look her best for her mate, wanted to mark the start of the rest of their lives together in finery. This was different, she knew, than the ceremony that joined her parents, they'd had words promising lifelong devotion, and her mother had accepted the crown she was gifted with, in front of onlookers from near and far. But her ceremony, her_ true  _joining, of body and soul, with Caderyna would be different. Reyneva had learned of the Dales Stones in reading through accounts of her grandmother. She'd learned of capturing the essence of the bond between true soulbonded mates, of their power for both protection and connection, and though pairings like she and Caderyna were few and far between, she'd gathered all the information she could on the stones through the help of Polerma. They'd each choose a simple stone, it didn't matter much about them, but that they were small enough to be worn, and, in holding them in clasped hands, having a third party speak an incantation of sorts, their combined power would change the molecules of the rock into something unmatchable, capturing their very essence inside._

_Waiting, Reyneva rubbed her chosen stone with her smallest finger, concerned, truly, that perhaps she was being foolish, that she'd filled Caderyna's head with these tales of stones that couldn't be touched but by the two they joined, stones that allowed the wearer to feel the heartbeat of their other, stones that would wrap them each in a protective blanket of sorts, a blanket that mimicked the other's embrace. She worried, though Polerma verified that she'd seen the stones of her daughters' grandparents firsthand, that this was nothing but myth, and she worried, though she knew it changed nothing of their everlasting bond, that she'd disappoint her love. It was Azar that broke Reyneva from her thoughts, coming into her space and tugging the bunched robes on her sister's frame, maintaining a tight smile as she did, much to the annoyance of Reyneva._

_"I'm glad you're keeping this private from the kingdom. Mother really does fill your head with silly romance, leaving little room for practicality." Azar huffed. "A Dales Stone ceremony, Neva? Really? You've gone out of your head because of this girl, bringing back long dead traditions and truly believing they're real. The soulbonding is madness enough, but this..."_

_"Azar. There's no madness in knowing that Cady is my one, my other half. Disbelieve all you want, but tell me, how was it that I knew her from the moment I saw her? Tell me how she and I were born on the very same day, and escaping her fate of ending my life, she found me anyway, and she_ loved me _instead."_

 _"Don't speak of her_ intended  _fate. I've just learned to believe that she_ does  _love you, at least, and I won't stop this ceremony, because I know she brings you happiness, but today of all days, don't remind me she was born to_ assassinate _you."_

 _"She was_ born  _to be my_ mate,  _in every sense of the word. What those...soulless creatures meant for her is another story. Don't test me, Azar, because I love you dearly. Don't test me, by thinking she, or her brother, for that matter, are anything but the most good, or-"_

_"Or what? You'll banish me? Lock me in a prison?"_

_"Or I'll reconsider the liberties you've always been allowed." Reyneva hissed, not liking reminding her sister of her own position of power, but finding it necessary._

_"You'll_ reconsider the liberties?"  _Azar snarked back._

 _"It would suit you well to remember_ who  _the first born is, who the_ queen  _is, and who will soon be crowned the same."_

 _"Oh,_ this  _is what we'll do now? Well then,_ your highness,  _by all means, do as you wish." Azar snipped, sarcasm thick in her words._

_"Zar-"_

_"Save it. You have no need for giving me an apology, do you? "You've said it yourself, you are the queen. I'll keep quiet with my opinions."_

_Before Reyneva could speak again in response, she saw Caderyna and Oskari making their way up the worn path to the edge of the stream. In response to the presence of her other half, Reyneva's antennae perked, and her eyes dilated with a want for her, a want to feel the beat of Caderyna's heart against her own, a want to take her in her arms after a half a day apart, a want to press their mouths together, and relish in every sensation that brought her. Caderyna, as she typically did, even after so much time of togetherness had passed since their first meeting, felt her skin prickle and flush, deep purple concentrating on her cheeks and neck, revealing to everyone present the extent of her feelings toward Reyneva._

_"My Cady." Reyneva approached, taking Caderyna by the hand and helping her the remainder of the way._

_"Hi." Caderyna whispered, awestruck that her love could look more beautiful than she typically did, and feeling the sides of her mouth upturn as Reyneva brushed her warm cheek with the back of her hand. "You look..."_

_"So do you. You're sure, my love, that this is what you want?" Reyneva asked softly, always, always making sure Caderyna was comfortable with what their next step was, always making sure she had full understanding, since she'd learned so much that was new upon her arrival._

_"More sure than I've ever been of anything. It's you, Neva, this is all that I want, to belong to you and have you belong to me, in all the ways the universe has to offer."_

_"What we want is the same then." Reyneva could hardly find her voice, her vocal cords constricting at Caderyna's powerful words. "Then we'll do this, we'll hold the essence of the full soul we make close to our hearts, and I will feel you with me, no matter how far I travel."_

_"Well I hope not too far, not without me." One of Caderyna's antennae fell, and Reyneva squeezed her hand in an effort to perk it back up._

_"Never too far, I couldn't bear that." Reyneva promised. "Come on, the others are waiting."_

_"Your sister looks angry. Is everything alright?"_

_"My sister always looks angry, leave her be, I won't have her ruin our happiness."_

_Together, they reached the peak of the falls, where the water tumbled over, oozing and sloshing at the bottom. The others waited for them, Azar and Oskari standing on the either side of Polerma. Hand in hand, Caderyna and Reyneva took their place in front of them, and could look nowhere but into the deepest depths of the others eyes. From the pockets of their garments, each took out a stone, the one in Reyneva's hand a little larger and slightly more misshapen than the one Caderyna held (the result of an arduous effort to find the one most perfect, because she felt the strongest desire to prove herself most worthy of her queen), and as they joined their other hands, two sets of fingers entwining around them, they pressed together. At the way they clinked, both Caderyna and Reyneva felt a jolt of electricity, one stronger than the one they'd normally experienced when they touched, and Reyneva felt a flutter in her throat. It was here, the day she'd dreamed about from the time she was a small child, the day she was unsure would ever come for her, with a person she was never even sure existed. Her precious gem, her Caderyna, her love, her life, her eternal mate. She didn't hear her mother speak the words, words in a version of their native tongue so old it was hard to distinguish from nonsense at all, all she heard was the sound of Caderyna's breathing, her heart, her everything, rushing through her as the palm of her hand began to warm, and the stones began to flatten between them._

_When Caderyna raised her hand from atop Reyneva's, at the repeated instruction of Polerma, the once silver stones glowed a bright yellow, the flecks of their old form glistening inside. Though on any other day, Reyneva would have drawn to her sisters attention that she had been right, the thought didn't cross her mind, no thought crossed her mind but that she and Caderyna were truly what she believed the were, and that she held in the palm of her hand something so precious, something gifted to her by Caderyna, that, now transformed, held a gift far greater. Gently, Reyneva liberated the intricate metal chain from beneath the garment that covered Caderyna's chest, the chain she'd given to her when asking to commit to her officially, and after pressing her mouth, for just a brief instant, to Caderyna's forehead, she used her sparking touch to mold the metal around the stone. It glowed, brighter even than it had in the palm of Reyneva's hand, and before she could do the same to the chain on Reyneva's neck, one she'd fashioned with her brother's help, Caderyna had to bring her hand to her love's face, amazed by the way her purpled cheeks glowed bright in the yellow light._

_"The crown, Neva." Polerma nudged her daughter gently, once Caderyna had finished fastening the stone in it's setting, reminding her of her worldly duties, while she was caught up in something so much greater._

_"Right." Reyneva nodded, though her eyes never left Caderyna's as she adjusted to the sensation of a separate heartbeat coursing through her, one that quickly evened to match her own. "As your true destined mate, I've asked you to join officially with me today for the rest of eternity, and you did, making me happier than I've ever been, Cady. But now, as the queen of Uecridis, I ask you to sit by my side, sharing with me the power and position this lifetime has afforded me. I ask you to rule with me as queen, because you've already taken the position as queen of my heart."_

_"Not the lines." Azar muttered under her breath, a stickler for the purest form of tradition when it came to the order of their kingdom, but she was quickly silenced by a single glare from Polerma._

_"I will. I accept the duties and responsibilities of the crown. I accept the path before me to lead the people of this great planet with dignity and kindness." Caderyna nodded along with her words, having practiced them over and over again, wanting nothing more than to honor and respect the etiquette of Reyneva's people. She waited, quietly, until Reyneva moved close to her, settling the plain band that matched her own upon her head, then lowered her voice barely above a whisper. "Though you were already queen when I came to know you, and a wonderful one at that, I believe you reign is even more powerful in_ my  _heart, my love."_

* * *

"Guys, what do you think?" Sam asked, breaking their connection. Brittany jerked her hand away, closing the pendant in her palm and burying it deep within her pocket.

"I...yeah, sure." Santana mumbled, having absolutely no idea what they'd been talking about, her mind still cloudy with thoughts of what basically equated to a marriage ceremony for Caderyna and Reyneva, something more beautiful than any earthly ritual she'd ever seen. "Whatever you think."

"Whatever you think?" Mercedes quirked an eyebrow, knowing full well that Santana hadn't heard, or else she'd have an opinion one way or another. "So then we don't tell Holly whether we trust her or not? Keep her from thinking she's gotten in?"

"No." Brittany shook her head quickly, reaching back for Santana's hand. "I'm sorry. This place is just...overwhelming. I'm against that idea. If we trust her, we trust her, and we give full disclosure. The worst thing we can do at this point in time is to play any games. If the threat against us is as real as Holly says, we need true allies, and she's the only one."

"But." Quinn argued, crossing her arms over her chest. "You put this in my head now, Brittany, and I'm not going to stop thinking that you're right."

"Well that's a first." Sam muttered to Mercedes.

"Shut up, Sam. We'll be revealing our biggest weakness, our  _humanness._ How do we know that these emotions are even something she feels, and not a result of our hybrid-ness. We could be putting the nail on our own damn coffins."

"Quinn. She already knows each of our biggest weaknesses." Brittany tried hard not to let her eyes cast to Santana, but it proved impossible. "It's obvious by what she knows of our specialized powers. And, emotion there, back where...we came from, if she feels things in the way I've felt what it's like to feel in our old life, all human feeling dulls in comparison."

"The circle of trust is getting too big. Let it be known that I'm entirely against letting another person in."

"And I'm entirely for it." Brittany reiterated.

"I was just saying a compromise might be to believe what she said, but not tell her that." Sam shrugged, trying to keep the peace.

"No. It's all or nothing. We need her protection, we let her in. End of story." Brittany pronounced.

"I don't know who died and made  _you_ queen." Quinn snipped, and Santana felt a coldness rush through her body, making her grip Brittany's hand tighter. "Whatever, you'll all vote against me anyway."

"Oh, please, enough with the self-pity." Santana rolled her eyes hard. "Brittany is trying to do what keeps us safe and you know it. Stop contradicting her for contradiction's sake. Let it go."

"Fine." Quinn shocked herself with her own acquiescence, and Brittany looked at Santana, impressed. "We better not die though."

"We're not going to die, Quinn." Sam promised her. "We're going to learn, we're going to practice, and if the time comes, we'll fight."

With a final nod all around, confirming that the decision was made, Brittany and Santana, side by side stepped through first, the other three falling in line behind them. Much to their surprise, Holly was sitting on the cot, large knitting needles and green yarn in her hand, working on what appeared to be a sweater. When she noticed the presence of her guests before her, she stopped and looked up at them, a grin creeping across her face.

"What, you've never seen someone knit before?"

"No, it's not that." Mercedes spoke first. "It's just...don't you have other things to do?"

"I've been on this planet almost seventy years. I've pretty much done all there is to do, and taught myself all there I'd to learn. Knitting's a hobby of mine, I've got a whole closet full of sweaters and scarves I've never even worn."

"Is it behind another wall?" Sam looked around, and Holly laughed.

"You think I live  _here?_ This place is a bunker, I guess, when I'm between identities, trying to reestablish myself. Right now, I've got a pretty big house over in West Roswell. Can't be a teacher in the district if you don't live there, so I've had it in my possession for a while, waiting for the day you found me. Anyway, enough about me, did you make a decision?"

"You're who you say you are." Brittany nodded, since she was the one who'd originally voiced her concerns. "Now tell us what it is you want to do."

"First and foremost? Publicly connect yourselves. I know you've been intentionally doing to opposite, but you're  _terrible_ at it. Any idiot can see you two making eyes at each other from the moon." She pointed her thumb to Brittany and Santana. "Not that I'm surprised, it was the same thing back home, but the less you look like you're sneaking around, the less attention you draw to yourself."

"I think that's a terr-" Quinn started, before Holly cut her off.

"And you need to stop looking so suspicious of everyone. I have far more reason to distrust everyone than you do, but I don't make in  _known._ Do something fun, join a team or a club, become a cheerleader, or, I don't know, maybe something less peppy, I guess? Is there an anti-cheerleading squad. Whatever, do something, stop skulking around."

"Did Holly just tell Quinn the same thing we've been telling her for years?" Sam murmured to Brittany.

"Did Holly just tell me I can date Santana and let people see?"

"Yes to both. Advanced hearing. And you- Holly shrugged, tapping her ear before pointing to Sam "You're doing the best job of being an all-American kid. Keep it up, I don't know when shit is going to hit the fan, but I know it will, and I'd like to prolong it as long as possible."

"Well that's...comforting." Santana rolled her eyes a little, though her heart still leapt with excitement about Holly giving her permission for the thing she wanted most.

"It's reality, sweet cheeks. This whole planet is inhabited by ignoramuses, terrified of things they don't know. Minus the evil murderous beings that made up four percent of the population of our home planet, it wasn't like this at all. I'm still adjusting."

"So what else to we do?" Brittany asked hearing the pang of home sickness in Holly's voice.

"Absolutely nothing but wait. We can't combat our enemies until we know who they are, and until they come for us first. Give me some time, and hopefully, I'll at least figure out who they are."

"But what about these secondary abilities?" Quinn asked, her palm twitching.

"Look, I'm going to be honest about something." Holly sighed. "I'm not entirely sure how any of your genetic makeup was designed to work. It was Yiofre who had that knowledge, and since he's dead...Anyway, all I kind was that they were supposed to develop as you needed them, but I can't imagine that working with the abilities you already have wouldn't help to hone them. Learn about yourselves, learn about your bodies."

"Wanky." Santana couldn't help herself, earning herself a chuckle from Holly and a glare from Quinn.

"We'll meet again, when I have more to tell you."

Turning away, Holly left the chambers, leaving the others to follow behind her, Brittany sparing a final glance in the direction of the place that housed their incubation pods, before wrapping and arm around Santana's waist, led them from the place. Holly had disappeared by the time they made it back to their cars, her Jeep long gone, only a trail of dust indicating she'd been there at all. They all stood for a moment, before Sam made the first move toward the car, pecking Mercedes on the cheek, and looking to his sister and Quinn. Brittany's goodbye to Santana took longer, kissing her twice on the lips, murmuring more  _I love you's_ and promising to see her later and figure out what everything meant for them, their new instructions from Holly and the stone weighing heavy in Brittany's pocket looming over them.

Quinn, clearly miffed by Holly's instructions, grumbled in the back seat for the entirety of the trip back to Roswell. Her desire to be human wasn't like Brittany and Sam's, and why would it be? Brittany and Sam had a human life to fit into, Quinn pretty much just existed on Earth, a ward of the state with a foster mother who couldn't care less about her, no romantic interests, no  _any_ interests really. She'd assumed someday she'd be going back to where'd she'd come from, she'd never imagined in her wildest dreams that this far off place that she'd dreamed of since before she could even write her human name for all intents and purposes no longer existed. Their lives were on earth, forevermore, and that was a difficult thing for her to reconcile. When Sam pulled up to drop her off at home, she mumbled a goodbye and shouldered her backpack, Brittany watching her go as she did.

"I think, maybe, if a soul is unhappy, it's unhappy no matter what bodily form it takes." Brittany pondered aloud to Sam.

"What do you mean?" He furrowed his brow.

"I don't believe Azar was happy on Uecridis either. It's like, she's always seeking something she can't find. I don't know, never mind."

"I feel bad for her, you know. She's bitchy and sort of intolerable, but she's  _our_ bitchy and intolerable."

"She just doesn't let anyone in. And us, well, we were the ones she trusted the least back then, so, I guess it kind of sucks for her that she got saddled with us in this quest to find Reyneva."

"And then we find Santana, and she's got this instant connection with you, but, she can't really wrap her head around Quinn."

"I'm really not sure they were on the best of terms when she died. I don't know, I know Holly said that Azar grew to trust Caderyna, and then that trust was shattered  _after,_ but I'm not sure she ever truly did, and I think Azar's relationship with Reyneva was really fractured because of it. You know, Polerma was their mom, her perspective on this could be colored by what she  _wanted_ to see for her daughters."

"It's funny, Britt, we always thought Quinn was the most alien, and here you are, actually understanding what happened back there."

"Because of my connection with Santana, it brings up a lot. I don't know, it's weird, I'm not sure how I feel about it."

"The connection?"

"No, no." Brittany shook her head quickly. "Remembering these things. Even the good memories, they're really intense."

"I saw what Santana found." Sam confessed.

"Yeah." Brittany nodded slowly, reaching into her pocket to wrap her fingers around the stone. "I'm not surprised she was the one who did, since I had these really strong feelings as soon as I was in the presence of Reyneva's."

"So they're basically like their wedding rings, right?"

"It's  _so_ much more than that, Sam. I'm sorry, I'm just, I'm not really ready to talk about them right now. That's why I didn't say anything in front of everyone else."

"I get it." He nodded. "But, I just want to remind you what you said about full disclosure. You're dealing with something you don't understand."

"I understand it more than you think." She snapped at him, and then immediately felt sorry. "Look, I'll tell Quinn, just give me a little time. It's something really sacred, and I need to deal with it with Santana first, okay?"

"Yeah, Britt, sure, whatever. Just be careful, you're playing with something bigger than us."

"So much bigger, Sam." She whispered, looking out the window as the heavy raindrops that had begun to call from the sky. "So much bigger than you could possibly understand."

* * *

Dinner at home with the Pierces was uneventful, though, as Susan ribbed Brittany a little as to whether she'd maybe asked out a cute waitress girl, and Evan joined in on the teasing, Brittany couldn't help but smile a little, thinking how much her parents would enjoy it when she was actually able to bring Santana home. Across town, at the Lopezes, Santana ate alone, as was usually the case, her father working the counter at the diner (not that he had cooled down enough to speak to her yet anyway), and her mother filling in in the kitchen, because Puck had an entire week of extra football practice in preparation for Friday's game. When she finished the sandwich that she'd grabbed from downstairs, Santana sat working through her homework, finishing her essay on  _Wide Sargasso Sea_ , and occasionally letting her mind wander to Holly's words,  _because the last time, we weren't._ It terrified her, the talk of preparations, honestly, because she knew she had little to offer in a fight, and she knew, if she was going to function as more than a weakness for Brittany, she needed to find her own way to contribute.

Though she normally heard Brittany in advance when she was approaching her window, the heavy rain that pattered on glass had silenced her approach, and it was the almost unbearable heat that burned between her breasts which notified her that Brittany was near by. Before Brittany could even rap against the glass, Santana was up on her feet, raising the window and offering her very wet girlfriend a hand inside. They exchanged quick kisses and hellos as Brittany quickly changed into the pajamas Santana tossed her way, and after quickly waving her hand over the clothes she'd had on, to leech them of their dampness, she pulled the second stone pendant out of the pocket of the jeans. It still glowed brilliant yellow in her palm, radiating heat, an effect, she figured that was a result of it being in close proximity to it's mate, and she sat on the edge of Santana's bed, holding it tightly.

"They remember each other." Santana tugged hers free from beneath her shirt. "It only glows like this when yours is here."

"Does it hurt on your skin?" Brittany asked, brow furrowing in concern.

"If doesn't hurt, really, it just...it feels, I guess, like when we kiss or have sex, and my body burns, except the burn is all in one place. It's not a bad feeling, it feels like  _you."_

"I don't like that the feeling you associate with me has to be burning."

"Britt, fire is so much more then a vehicle for pain and destruction. Mankind's greatest gift, right?"

"That's another way to look at it." A slow smile spread across Brittany's lips, and Santana nudged her knees apart a little so she could stand between them and place her hands on Brittany's upper arms. "I'm so glad you found this."

"Me too. I thought about it a lot, and I wondered if it was lost forever, in the whole mess of the crash, but you had it close to you the whole time. I wonder why you weren't wearing it though."

"I wonder..." Brittany started, the took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Santana's. "Reyneva put it on Caderyna, I wonder if after I was transformed into my human body, if I was waiting to find you to do that again."

"Brittany." Santana could feel the gravity of her words, pressing her. It was different, she knew then when Brittany had unknowingly placed her chain around her neck for safekeeping. It was different, because with the knowledge of what the stones actually were, they were completing, in this life, a sacred ritual. Closing her eyes for a moment, Santana leaned down and kissed Brittany slow, deep, pouring every bit of her emotion into a singular action, before she opened her mouth the speak again, feeling how raspy her voice had become. "Is that still something you want me to do?"

"It is." She nodded slowly, as Santana covered the pendant held in her palm with her own hand. "If you don't think it's too weird."

"I don't even know if it's weird, and I don't even think I care. I mean, I was married, or, joined, whatever they call it, to you before I was born, and I don't think it's wrong to want you give you back, in it's entirety, something that was already yours. I want to know if they still work the same, I want to know if we'll always feel each other's heartbeats now, and mostly, I want you to gave every kind of protection you possibly can. Holly said mine killed a soldier when he ripped it from Reyneva's neck, I just...God, I wanted to sound more romantic than this, I'm sorry."

"You're very romantic." Brittany chided her a little, poking at her side. "But you're right, I just, wow. So when we announce that we're dating, do we tell everyone that we were actually married on another planet?"

"Honestly." Santana laughed at Brittany's joke, flicking her ear. "We could go with the truth if we tell the, we joined the Tin Hat Society at school."

"You mean the UFO Hunters Club?" Brittany giggled in return, thinking of the group led by Jacob Ben Israel that sounded like a major threat to them, but really, involved a bunch of the AV Club who fabricated videos of their  _findings_. "Only in Roswell, Santana. But I think we should just go with  _mom, dad, the cute girl from the diner asked me out."_

"Your mother will be thrilled."

"Yes, yes she will." Brittany kissed Santana's nose, then turned serious. "Okay, are you ready for this?"

"I am."

Santana took in all the air she could manage and carefully lifted the necklace from Brittany's hand. They kept their eyes locked as Brittany pulled back her hair, and the heat in Santana's chest grew tenfold, hissing, almost, as Caderyna's stone passed over it. Twice, Santana tugged at the chain in her hands, and the metal fell apart easily, as if she were tearing paper. When the stone hit Brittany's chest, she felt the pure energy that radiated from it, tingling down to the very tips of her toes. When the chair magically repaired itself at the nape of Brittany's neck, the surge that released from both stones would have knocked Santana to the ground had Brittany not grabbed onto her waist. It was intense, more intense than anything either of them had ever experienced, and Brittany swore, as a thick coppery taste filled her mouth, that actual blue waves came off of their bodies, like a beacon, of sorts. Several moments passed before the feeling began to fade, but when it did, the yellow light grew brighter, brighter, until it dimmed to only the lowest light.

"Do you..." Santana trailed off, swallowing the thickness in her throat at the sensation of a second heart beating almost in sync with her own once the light had faded. "It's you. I...I'll always know..."

"We'll always know. Wow. I feel your heart close to mine so much, but this us the strangest feeling."

"Like it's actually beating  _inside_ yours, right?"

"That's exactly what it is." Brittany marveled. "I know it's not actually  _in there,_ but, I just feel like, there is no possible way to keep each other safer than with each other's hearts beating inside our own."

"I agree. I agree one-hundred percent."


End file.
